Finding Richard Castle - The Isolation Experiment
by Beledi1113
Summary: Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge. This will be told mainly from Castle's viewpoint and will be multi-chapter.
1. Chapter 1

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge.

Author's Notes – This is told mainly from Castle's viewpoint. There are a lot of good fanfics out there that deal with Beckett's angst during the time Castle is missing, but very few about him, so I thought I'd give it a try. Kinda of a cross-between Cabin in the Woods (really freaky and I usually don't watch horror movies), the Truman Show, and Castaway.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 1 – MIS Commencing**

# # # # # # # # #

"And we are up and running – cameras are a go, mikes are hot," said Fred as he made a slight adjustment in the control panel. "Mars isolation simulation 5B commencing in 3…2…1."

He leaned back in his chair and watched the monitors with a satisfied smile and then turned to the man standing behind him.

"Man, I still cannot believe that you got Richard freakin' Castle to do this. How did you manage that?"

Jason smiled slightly. "He met all the qualifications – very social, techno geek." He leaned forward and watched Castle on the monitor for a moment. "Mars will be a difficult environment. People will be cut off from avenues of normal contact, so we need to find ways to help them adjust, make the most of their new home. That's what this will show us how to do."

"Brilliant," said Fred and then thought for a moment. "But when we send people to Mars, it will probably be a one-way trip. Our scenarios are set up for 3 months. Do you think that affects the outcome, them knowing that they won't be in there forever?"

Jason shrugged. "That's why we don't tell them exactly how long this will last. So we don't skew the results."

Fred frowned. "But is that ethical?"

"Of course not," said Jason. "But that's why we get paid the big bucks." He looked at his assistant. "Do you have a problem with that?"

Fred shook his head quickly. He'd make more on this job than he would the rest of his life being a research assistant until he moved up the research ladder.

"And to everyone else, he's subject MIS 5B – not Richard Castle," Jason quickly corrected. "It's a blind study."

Fred nodded and looked back at the screen. Yeah, he was glad he didn't volunteer for this experiment. The thought of being in total isolation for an undeterminable amount of time sent shivers down his spine. He at least had the opportunity to leave for a while every day and connect with the outside world.

"Why don't you go get some coffee? I'll take the first shift," said Jason.

"Okay. Can I bring you something?"

"No, I'm good," Jason said, sitting down in the chair in front of the control panel. He waited until Fred left the room and then glared at the screen.

"Got you, you son of a bitch," he said vehemently.

Yes, what he was doing might help humanity reach the stars, but he had a more personal reason for doing this and that was getting Richard Castle back for Kyra Blaine.

She had been the light of his life in college, even though he was sure she didn't know he existed outside being her math tutor. He had fallen in love with her and was almost ready to ask her out when Richard Rogers (as the man was known back then) had arrived on the scene. Kyra was immediately smitten by his good looks, quick charm, and ready laugh, and he knew that men like him didn't stand a chance against pretty boy.

It had taken years of watching and waiting until he had finally put the perfect plan together – all the stars aligned correctly. This may have cost him a year's salary and several favors to implement it, but it was worth it. And when the scenario was over, he'd just turn off the cameras and Richard Castle would disappear from existence without a trace.

Yes, it was definitely worth it, he thought as he watched the man on the monitor.

# # # # # # # # #


	2. Chapter 2 The Limit of My Existence

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. This probably won't be as long as I first thought since I have some real life projects I need to do. And I'm going to throw in some Beckett after all.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 2 – The Limit of My Existence**

# # # # # # # # #

Castle crouched in the corner, staring at his surroundings, the same thing he had been doing for hours, hoping for an unexpected change. But wasn't that the definition of insanity – doing the same thing over and over, and hoping for different results?

And maybe he was insane because he sure as hell didn't know what was going on or where he was.

The last thing he remembered was the black SUV crashing into him and then there was nothing after he gotten out to confront the driver.

He had woken up to find himself dressed in a jumpsuit, no longer in his wedding tux that he had so proudly put on that morning – had it been that morning? – lying on an uncomfortable mattress in a 10' x 10' beige room with no windows.

A florescent light fixture hung from the ceiling, giving the room an institutional look, the hum of the ventilation system ever present. The only furnishings were the mattress with no frame, an equally utilitarian uncomfortable chair, a small table, and an exercise bike in the corner.

There were also no reflective surfaces of any kind, almost as if this were the lair of a vampire who didn't want to be reminded of his sorry fate.

He had already tried both doors in the room. The first one led to another 10' x 10' beige room lined with shelves along the walls, filled with small gray packets, bottles of water, towels, toiletries, and jumpsuits that matched the one he was now dressed in. A large trash can stood on one side of the storage room and a small bathroom was at the back.

The second door was locked. When he had first woken up, he had pounded on the locked door repeatedly, trying to get someone's – anyone's – attention, even if it was someone bad, to find out what had happened.

After a while, he had finally retreated to the corner to examine this puzzle in detail. This reminded him of the fall-out shelters he had read about as a boy and that thought filled him with dread. It was if he would be here for an indeterminate amount of time with no contact to the outside world – if the outside world existed at all, his writer's mind supplied freely.

His one saving thought was that if the world did exist, Beckett was looking for him. She would move heaven and earth to find him. It was only a matter of time and he just had to be patient.

# # # # # # # # #

Castle wasn't sure how long he had crouched there, but his legs finally protested enough that he had to stand and work out the kinks and get the blood circulating again.

So, a fallout shelter, huh?

What should he do first? Check the supplies – what did he have and how much?

He walked into the storage room and surveyed the packets. How many were there? And what were they?

He picked one up and read the print – great, freeze dried spaghetti with a side of green beans, crackers, a candy bar, and powdered coffee – with an expiration date 3 years from now. At least he wouldn't starve to death any time soon; he'd probably die of boredom first.

Next he picked up a bottle of water. That would work to reconstitute the meal.

Castle looked at the shelves and did a quick count of the packets. If he could stomach 3 of these a day, they would last 90 days; if he only ate 2 a day, they would last 135 days. 2 a day it was then, he said as he tossed the packet back on the rack.

He walked into what might have been considered a bathroom. Very utilitarian but where were the sink and the bathtub, not to mention a mirror? That was definitely a toilet, but what was the tube coming out of the wall next to it?

He passed his hand under the end of it and was rewarded with a glop of clear goo. He brought it to his nose and smelled it – antibacterial gel? You have got to be kidding me, he thought. He was supposed to use that for showering? Really?

He rubbed the gel on his pants leg and walked back into the room with the mattress.

He slowly walked around the room and then knelt by the exercise bike, examining the wiring attached to it. Was it hooked up to some sort of generator?

He had heard about these in prison – was he in prison? The inmates would ride the bikes to power a TV.

He got on the bike and started pedaling, careful not to jar his knee. After a few minutes, he was rewarded as a panel on the opposite wall flickered to life.

He kept pedaling while looking at the control panel in between the handle bars and then pressed the button labeled 'Menu'.

A list of books appeared on the screen – apparently this was a larger version of a Kindle?

He quickly scanned the list and then stopped suddenly, letting out an exasperated breath.

Patterson – Cannell – Connelly? Really? That was all the reading material there was. But his book _A Rose Forever After_ was listed also.

Castle jumped off the bike and strode to the locked door.

"Hey, if you're out there, just tell me why!" he yelled at the top of his lungs, pounding on it with all his might, not caring that he was bruising his hands in the process. "What did I do?!"

# # # # # # # # #

Jason smiled as he sipped his Starbucks and watched the monitor as Castle pounded on the door.

Day 1 was over. He turned a switch that dimmed the lights to simulate night and then pushed a button that erased that day's recording.

Fred would be coming in soon and it would put a definite crimp in his plan if his assistant found out what he was doing.

Yes, this was going to be fun. All he had to do was sit back and watch Richard freakin' Castle go insane. Total isolation had a tendency to do that to people.

# # # # # # # # #


	3. Chapter 3 Like a Human Lab Rat

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. Rated high T for swearing. So I was thinking about where I wanted to take this story – into a lot of angst or not a lot of angst? But it is fanfic and what is fanfic without the angst? Thoughts? Comments?

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 3 – Like a Human Lab Rat**

# # # # # # # # #

Jason took up his usual position in the control chair and slowly sipped his Starbucks, savoring both the drink and the scene on the monitor immensely.

Castle had spent the first two days going over every inch of the two rooms and everything in them to try to find clues as to where he was and what was happening, but to no avail.

He had even carefully lined up the empty food packets along one wall of the storage room so that he had a rudimentary calendar for telling the days apart other than the lights dimming and brightening to indicate night and day.

Now, two days later, he simply sat in a corner of the room, staring at nothing, repeatedly bouncing an empty bottle lid off the wall and into empty food packet near his feet, retrieving the lid, and bouncing it again. He had yet to approach the exercise bike.

Good, apathy was setting in. Now to mix it up a little…

Like a maestro warming up, Jason laced his fingers together and stretched them, then leaned forward, turned the alarm up to full volume, and pressed a button.

Yeah, this was going to work out very well as he watched the man react – like shooting fish in a barrel. Payback really was a bitch.

# # # # # # # # #

After four days of silence except for his own mutterings, Castle swore and practically leapt out of his skin at the sound of the klaxon going off, adrenaline kicking his heart rate into overdrive.

Covering his ears, he jumped up from the floor and looked around in a near panic, trying to figure out what was happening.

He frowned as the screen in front of the exercise bike lit up and then moved closer to read what it said.

'Warning!' flashed in large red letters. 'The ventilation system is not functioning properly and must be reset immediately. Oxygen levels have dropped to 75%. Estimated 30 minutes of breathable air left.'

What the hell?

Mouth agape, he read further. 'Press the Reset button on the control panel to resolve the problem.'

Control panel? Was there a control panel – had he seen one? And would he really run out of breathable air in 30 minutes?

He quickly glanced around the room – certainly not in here – and then, ears still covered, raced into the storage room.

Castle spun around as he frantically looked about the small room.

The control panel – where was it? There – on the wall behind a shelf – could that be it?

He quickly pulled the items off of the shelf and shouldered it out of the way.

A red light labeled Reset was flashing behind a plastic cover.

Castle ran his hands along the cover, trying to find the opening, letting out a string of expletives when he couldn't.

Slow down, he thought. There was a keyhole – keys – he needed keys, but he hadn't seen any when he was exploring.

He quickly ran his hands along the shelves, trying to find a key, and then turned his attention to the 2 crates in the corner.

Were they in there and he had just overlooked them?

He unlatched the first one and dumped the contents out on the floor. No keys. He dumped out the second crate and searched through the contents. No keys, but there was a flat-head screwdriver.

When in need, make do, he thought as he jammed the head of the screwdriver into the key opening and pushed, putting some muscle behind it.

The cover finally gave way with a loud crack and he pushed it aside so that he could press the button.

Castle breathed a sigh of relief as the alarm shut off and a green light came back on, and pressed a hand to his chest as he leaned back against the wall, gulping in deep breaths of air to slow his heart rate.

He waited a few more minutes for his breathing to even out before looking at the mess he had created looking for the control panel.

His first instinct was to just leave it since he was the only one here, but he had to keep careful track of his supplies so that he could ration them. If he didn't, he might run out before Beckett found him because he was sure nothing could keep her away from him.

He decided to leave the shelf where it was.

As he was putting the packets back on the shelf, he noticed that several of the cracker packets had small holes in the corners, almost like teeth marks. So he wasn't alone in here, he thought as he looked around.

# # # # # # # # # #

Deep in thought, Fred paused before knocking on the door of the control room to begin his night shift.

Around this time – 4 weeks into the scenario – boredom sat in, both for the volunteer and the researcher. Now it was just a matter of watching the calendar as the days passed, almost as boring as watching paint dry, as they waited for the end.

The money for giving up 3 months of his life was good, but Fred had a more selfish reason for volunteering. With his bad luck of the draw, he had been assigned Dr. Jason 'KMN' Neidmyer as his doctorial advisor and he thought that anything he could do to garner the man's favor was well worth his time.

The man's brilliant mind was hidden by his lack of social skills and he never seemed pleased with anything that his candidates produced.

But working this experiment seemed to be just the ticket. Neidmyer had told him in the beginning to call him 'Jason' and that 'they were in this together' and has seemed positively giddy some nights when Fred relieved him.

Fred found such comradery strange from a man who had previously rebuffed all his attempts at conversation other than Dr. Neidmyer's theories, but if it gained him points, who was he to argue?

The door slid open with a snick.

"Jason," Fred nodded, gauging the other man's mood by the response he gave – a slight smile, more of a grimace from a face unused to smiling. This must have been a good day.

"Fred," Jason nodded back and handed him the scenario book.

"Uh, I've been meaning to talk to you about this," said Fred, flipping the book open to today's date and seeing the empty page. "There haven't been any night scenarios."

Neidmyer nodded. "That's according to plan." He pointed to the book. "These scenarios have been carefully created based on the individual's strengths and personality to determine their ability to react to different situations based on the severity of the problem."

"But there aren't any at night," Fred repeated himself. "All MIS 5B does most nights is just sit there with a flashlight on."

"Then that must be what his strengths are, Mr. Peterson," reprimanded Neidmyer. He looked at his watch. "I'll be back at 08:00 hours."

Fred nodded and then sat in the command chair as the door slid closed.

He pushed a few buttons on the computer and frowned. He hadn't been able to review any of the daily tapes – he should probably mention that to Neidmyer too, but he may have already pushed his luck with the man. He couldn't afford to be blacklisted at this point in his studies.

# # # # # # # # # #

The boredom finally got to Fred around 06:30 as his hand hovered over a button on the control panel. Just one little test wouldn't hurt. He could always erase the recording afterwards. No one needed to know.

He flipped the page in the book to the next page. Ah, the CO2 filter replacement test – that was always a good one. The subjects had to create a filter from the items in the crates and insert it into the ventilation system so that the CO2 levels didn't rise to a dangerous level, always a possibility in an enclosed system.

And they had to do it based on the materials on hand, purposely limited because god knows there wouldn't be a WalMart on Mars in the foreseeable future. That always sat the smart ones apart from those not so smart.

His finger hovered a few more seconds before it moved on its own and pressed the button.

Fred frowned as he watched the monitor. He hoped that this wouldn't skew the results of the test.

# # # # # # # # # #

When the alarm went off and the lights brightened, the only response Castle made was to roll over on the mattress and stuff the pillow over his head, trying to blot out the sound.

When that didn't work, he finally removed the pillow and rolled back over after several minutes, vented a string of expletives, and stared at the screen, reading the alert.

He quickly sat up – the filter was outside?

He stood and walked over to the door that had always been locked and then froze as it slid open.

The stairs going up led to another door which slid open when he reached it.

Castle cautiously stepped outside and then froze again, staring at his surroundings.

A dome about 20' in diameter enveloped the structure he had just emerged from.

But what lay beyond was more unsettling. In the early morning light, he could make out a vast, pink tinted wasteland where the wind picked up sand and blew it around aimlessly.

His first thought was that aliens had abducted him and he was on Mars, being experimented on like a human lab rat. His second thought was more likely though – he had gone completely crazy and was locked away in some mental institution.

Crazy or not, he started to explore the edges of the dome to see if there was a way out.

# # # # # # # # # #

Well, that was unexpected, thought Fred as he watched Castle walk around the inside perimeter of the dome, and finally turned off the alarm since MIS 5B did not look to be in any hurry to complete the test.

Oh, yeah, that would look really good in their report. And he doubted that this study would reveal anything useful based on the participant's responses up to this point.

It was going to be another long 2 months. Fortunately Sue was coming in a month.

He reached over to press the button to erase the recording when he realized that the cameras had been turned off the entire time.

He pressed the record button, waited for the recording message to appear, and frowned as nothing happened.

After he pushed the video feed button for camera 1, his frown deepened as the secondary monitor remained black. Was there a problem with the cameras?

But if there was, they couldn't fix it without negating the entire test, which might not be so bad in this case. But if the test was negated, would he get paid for his time?

He sat back and quickly made a decision. Neidmyer was ultimately in charge and, if there was a problem with the equipment, it would fall on his shoulders.

And then maybe he'd get a decent advisor.

# # # # # # # # # #


	4. Chapter 4 Bring Out the Crazies

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. Rated high T for swearing and innuendo. Hmmm, this story is turning out to be a lot longer than I originally thought. And we're going for angst.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 4 – Bring Out the Crazies**

# # # # # # # # #

Immediately after they were called in, the FBI set up two command posts – one at the loft and one at the house in the Hamptons – in its quest to find Castle and be the heroes in this story.

But there were no clues as to what had happened to Castle. No skid marks were found on the road before the ravine, and the only things they could tell from the accident site were that the car had been deliberately driven into the ravine and then set afire.

To make matters worse, there were no witnesses to the wreck and no John Does had shown up at any hospital or morgue in the surrounding area. There were no ransom phone calls either.

And now, 4 weeks later, the FBI was seriously thinking that the groom had simply gotten cold feet and was having a mid-life crisis, like most middle-aged men do at some point in their life. Since Castle was well-known and rich, what better way to disappear than to stage an accident and simply walk away?

In fact, that's the stories that the tabloids were now running, based on comments from an unnamed source.

But the most damning evidence that gave credence to their theory was discovered when they dug into Castle's life, trying to come up with suspects, and uncovered several items that even his family couldn't explain.

They found several offshore accounts whose accumulated balances made even Martha blink. A recent withdrawal of $20,000 in the form of a wire transfer was made three days before the wedding was to occur.

The clincher was when they found the locker at the bus station complete with a requisite duffel bag filled with $15,000 cash, a fake Australian passport with Castle's picture in it, and a burner phone.

The FBI then simply shook their collective heads, packed up, and returned to their Manhattan office.

The fact that everyone told them that this was not like Castle at all held little sway over their decision. Before he left, Agent Branson took Beckett aside. His comment was simply, "Sometimes, even when we think we know a person, we really don't know them at all."

He did make one concession and handed Beckett his card. "Call us if he contacts anyone."

It was only at the insistence of the mayor that the FBI left phone taps on any line that Castle or someone else might use to contact them.

Beckett had thought about hiring a PI to continue the investigation, but she had the power of the 12th behind her, even if she couldn't directly investigate the case – what could an outsider do that Castle's friends couldn't do?

# # # # # # # # #

After talking with Gates, Beckett finally decided to return to the precinct on a part-time basis.

She couldn't sit at home, not doing anything. It was driving her crazy and she needed something to escape in and, for her, that had always been work. But she wasn't focused enough to be effective in the field, so Gates restricted her to desk duty and helping other officers prepare for upcoming trials.

Beckett tried to bury herself in those reports, taking notes as needed, but it wasn't quite enough. She had days where she could concentrate fairly easily and then days when it was harder, when she noticed the same pitying looks from her co-workers, the ones she remembered being on the receiving end of after her mother was murdered, only now it was poor jilted bride, left at the altar.

When that happened, she shoved whatever report she was reading into her briefcase and headed to her apartment, but that didn't help either. Like the lure of a siren, the 'missing' board that had Castle's case information on it would call to her and she would sit and stare at it for a couple of hours to see if anything popped.

Only when Martha or Alexis called her to remind her, would she shake off the trance and then head to the loft to have dinner with them.

The three of them were determined to lead as normal of life as possible under the circumstances. Now that the public's interest in the case was finally waning, reporters had stopped following them and it was becoming easier, though the tabloid magazines still ran the occasional Richard Castle sighting, much to their dismay.

# # # # # # # # #

Beckett absentmindedly flipped to the next page on the report she was reading at her desk and realized that she really hadn't been paying attention, so she flipped back to the front page to begin again. This was going to be one of those days.

Espo and Ryan sat at their desks, working on the case they had caught earlier in the week, and then quietly bringing up another browser as they searched online for any current sightings of Castle to investigate those. So far, all of the sightings were quickly dismissed as being false.

Her phone rang and she picked it up absentmindedly. "Beckett," she said half-heartedly.

She was greeted by silence and then heavy breathing. Oh, great – one of those – just what she needed. She pulled the phone away from her ear and looked at the screen – unknown caller.

"Beckett?" came the shaky voice, then more heavy breathing.

She sat up taller and snapped her fingers at Espo and Ryan. "Castle?" she said.

"Kate – oh my god – I thought I'd never hear your voice again," came the reply.

"Castle? Is that really you? Where are you?" Beckett yelled as she put the phone on speaker.

"Don't know – there was a crash – I got out to talk to the people and then I woke up in this beige room – it was underground."

"Are you all right?" Beckett asked.

"Now that I'm talking to you," came the reply.

"Look around and see if you can find anything tells you where you are," Beckett said.

"Yeah – yeah." There was a pause. "No, I don't see anything that can help. It's all flat – I think I'm in a desert."

"Listen, are you still where you were?" Espo asked.

There was a pause. "No – the door was locked and then it was unlocked, so I left and found a phone…oh god, Kate – the phone is about to die. I…"

"Castle!" screamed Beckett into the silence.

She quickly dialed *69, but all the phone did was ring.

"No – no," she repeated as she tried again with the same results.

Espo quickly called Agent Branson. "Yeah, he just made contact but then the phone went dead."

Espo hung up his phone and looked at Beckett and Ryan. "They got the location. Agent Branson will be here in an hour."

# # # # # # # # #

True to his word, Branson walked into the 12th bullpen an hour later, carrying a laptop.

"Detectives, Captain," he nodded at the team.

Beckett nodded back, vindicated by the knowledge that Castle hadn't simply walked away. "Agent Branson."

The agent flipped open the laptop he was carrying.

"The good news is that we were able to pull the phone number from the call and based on that, narrow the location to a several hundred square mile area in the southwestern US, including the Las Vegas area," he said, tracing his finger along a map on the monitor.

"Really, that's all you got?" commented Espo.

"Javi," Beckett admonished.

"Now for the bad news," replied Branson. "That was one of several pay as you go cell phones purchased online using a prepaid card and sent to a mailbox in Las Vegas six weeks ago. The mailbox was registered to a Mr. Richard Rogers, which was Mr. Castle's given name until he changed it. And the battery was removed immediately after the call was made so we can't access the internal speaker or locate it using the GPS now. The other cell phones in that shipment aren't active either."

Beckett bit her lower lip and dropped her head for a minute, frowning. She looked back up at Branson. "I know Rick and he didn't just walk away. He said there was a wreck and he got out to talk to the people and then he woke up in a room."

Branson nodded. "Detective Beckett, no matter how you feel, I have to go by the evidence. And that evidence says that Mr. Castle carefully planned this. That is what he does for a living, isn't it? Write books about how people try to outwit the authorities?"

"But the authorities always catch them in his books," replied Beckett.

"Now what?" intervened Captain Gates.

"As a favor to the mayor, we'll leave the phone taps on for now," said Branson. "If the battery is put back in, we're set up to monitor the speaker."

"Thank you for your assistance, Agent Branson," said Gates.

"Just doing my job, ma'am," he replied. Branson paused before he pushed the elevator button and turned back to the group. "There is one other thing to consider and it's that it wasn't Mr. Castle who called. I've worked enough of these high profile cases and sometimes they just bring out the crazies. I'm pretty sure you've given your phone number out to numerous people, Detective, and the press has certainly put enough information out there that someone could be using that to yank your chain."

Beckett watched him leave and pushed a piece of hair behind her ear before looking at the team.

"Detective, if you need to take some time," offered Gates.

Beckett shook her head. "No, sir. I don't."

"All right," said Gates, nodding. She looked at Espo and Ryan. "Where are you on the case?"

"We've got a couple of suspects we'd like to bring in," answered Ryan as he and Espo walked her over to the murder board by their desk.

Beckett watched them and then wiped a tear from her eye before starting to read the report again.

# # # # # # # # #

The second call came two days later when Beckett was at the precinct, reading another report. The screen again displayed unknown caller.

"Beckett," she said, answering the phone.

"Kate – thank god," came the reply.

"Castle, is that you?" Beckett asked cautiously.

"Yeah."

"Where are you?"

"Don't know – I think I've been walking for days, maybe going around in a circle."

"Have you seen any landmarks?" Beckett asked.

"No, there are some rocks but I haven't seen any lights at night."

Beckett nodded. "Castle, how did you charge the phone? You said it was about to die."

"Yeah, it did. But I found an old gas station in the middle of nowhere – the power was still on, so I could charge the phone."

"How much power does the battery have now?" Beckett asked.

"Uh – not a lot. I've been trying to use the GPS to find out where I am but it's not working out here."

"Okay," said Beckett. "Look, Rick, we'll find you. The FBI is tracing the call."

"Good. Kate, in case I don't get the chance to tell you, I am so sorry about the wedding. It was your big day and I messed it up." The voice broke slightly.

Beckett smiled in spite of herself. "No, no, it's okay. You'll see – we'll do it right."

"And the honeymoon – three weeks in the Maldives – that would have been spectacular."

"Yeah, it would have been," smiled Beckett.

Her smile quickly changed to a look of horror as the caller began a litany of what they would have done for those three weeks and she knew then without a doubt that she had never been talking to Castle, as Branson had suggested.

She felt her cheeks flame in both embarrassment and rage as her hands balled up into fists.

Castle may have used that language in private, but he never would have talked like that in public.

His own face dark with anger, Espo quickly punched the end button on the phone and then pulled out his phone and called Branson. "Yeah, you got that? You were right."

# # # # # # # # #

This time, rather than taking the battery out of the phone, the man had simply dumped it in a trashcan and the FBI in Las Vegas was able to retrieve it.

It was free of prints, but the video from the area showed a man about 6'2" tall, long matted brown hair and beard, dressed in a gray jumpsuit, who was their likely target.

They ran facial recognition, but the beard was throwing them off and they couldn't make a match.

Branson was sympathetic and told them that they could file criminal charges of harassment against the man, if they could ever locate him.

"Let's do that," said Beckett. "Get him off the streets before he hurts anyone."

That night, their bed felt even colder now that her one hope had been destroyed.

# # # # # # # # #


	5. Chapter 5 The Boring Days of Our Lives

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. Rated high T for swearing and innuendo. Hmmm, this story is turning out to be a lot longer than I originally thought, but I'm putting in several time jumps in this chapter to move things along. Sorry for the delay – had to figure out the ending timeline.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 5 – The Boring Days of Our Lives**

# # # # # # # # # #

If he thought that being sidelined with a broken knee for 4 weeks was boring, this was a living hell, Castle thought as he tried to stuff the pillow over his ears without suffocating himself in an attempt to ignore the sound of the klaxon.

At least during that time, he was connected to the outside world and everything made sense.

Here, in this tiny room, nothing made sense except that he was subject to seemingly random tests by some puppet master intent yanking his chain.

One of the more interesting tests was when the ventilation system cut off and he had to find the bypass to restart it, which was apparently different than resetting the system as he had done previously. By the time he had completed the task, the air in the enclosed area was becoming stuffy. It was still cool because the room was underground, but the air definitely venturing into the stale, definitely needing an air freshener region.

Restart – reset – same thing, his writer's mind told him, but apparently not to whatever evil entity designed this.

And then there was the time when the lights went out – not even the screen worked – and he had to carefully make his way into the storage room and find a flashlight in the crate. It had taken him several hours and several stubbed toes to find the right button to push to bring them back on. Since then, he kept the flashlight near him at all times.

Yeah, someone was definitely messing with him. And it was working because he was becoming more restless and irritable with each passing day, endlessly pacing in his small confinement.

By the count of the empty packets and water bottles, he had been in this hell hole for a total of 6 weeks – 1-1/2 months missing from his life that he would never get back – 42 days away from his family whom he was sure were religiously looking for him. He was positive nothing would stop Beckett from finding him.

He finally pulled the pillow off of his ears and looked around for the offending horn. There – behind the ventilation grate near the ceiling. That's definitely where the sound was emanating from.

Castle quickly read the screen and followed the instructions to turn off the alarm.

He then looked back at the grate and estimated its height from the floor – about 10' as he eyeballed it. He was 6'2" so he needed something that was at least 4' tall to stand on.

The table was about 30" tall, well under the required 48" inches. He could place the chair on the table, but that seemed a little wobbly and it would probably be a bad move if he fell and broke something.

But what could he use to reach the grate? Ah, the crates in the storeroom – they were at least 2' in height each.

He walked into the store room and emptied out both crates and then drug them one at a time into the main room. They looked strong enough to support his weight, so he stacked one on top of the other.

Castle then went back into the storage room and found his trusty friend, the screwdriver, and cursed at whoever designed these overalls and the lack of pockets. His clothes definitely had to have pockets – who knew what treasures he would find in his forays into the world?

He carefully climbed onto the crates, gingerly testing them against his weight first before standing and looking at the grate covering. Piece of cake, he thought, as he inserted the tip of the screwdriver into the bottom screw.

By the time he had finished removing the grate cover and unhooking the alarm, he was huffing and sweating and his muscles were screaming in protest. Then, when he climbed down off the crate, he was bent over like an old man. Yep, this confinement was doing a number on both his body and his mind, but he quickly decided he wasn't going to go gently into the night.

He contemplated the exercise bike for a few minutes. He wasn't much for regular, boring exercise, but if he wanted to stand a chance when he escaped – and he would escape – he'd at least need to be in shape to do it.

Well, he was already sweaty, so why not start now?

He climbed on the bike and pedaled for a while before the screen lit up.

He scanned the book titles available and quickly decided on one. It's not like he hadn't read them before, but he kept his stash of his competitors' works carefully hidden. It was part of his Castle persona and he wouldn't want anyone thinking he was a fan.

Oh, yeah, he thought as he pedaled. He was definitely in hell and this was payback for the misdeeds in his past.

# # # # # # # # # #

Beckett frowned and sat back in her chair at the precinct as her phone rang and unknown caller came up on the screen.

After so many of these calls, she just let it go to voice mail if the caller wasn't identified.

She would listen to the first few seconds of the phone call – they always started the same.

"Beckett – oh my god, I thought I'd never hear your voice again. And it's great even if it's your voice mail. I'm sorry – I was driving to the wedding and there was this crash and I got out and then I woke in this beige room. I'm sorry about the wedding and the honeymoon."

And then the tirade about the honeymoon would start and she would delete the message.

Branson said that the calls were originating from the Los Vegas area, but by the time they got to the location indicated, the caller would be gone. Any surveillance cameras showed the same man – tall, brown beard, grey jumpsuit. Sometimes he would have a grey piece of material wrapped around his head; sometimes his hair would be pulled back into a slight pony tail.

Even though they put out a BOLO, the police never saw him. He was like a ghost.

Gates watched her through the window. Beckett never said anything, but she could tell the detective received one of those phone calls by her stiff posture. Gates recommended that Beckett change her phone number, but she resisted, saying that this was the only way to get that pervert off the street – and if Castle ever really did call, this would be the number he called.

# # # # # # # # # #

Being in the desert was not without its high points as Castle found out one night when he awoke to muffle booms outside.

He quickly hopped up, hoping for rescue, and then realized it was something entirely different as he listened to the sounds. He cautiously approached the door, which slid open without hesitation, and then quickly walked up the stairs.

The booms were louder now, with minute pauses in between.

He stopped at the top door as it slid open, not sure what was on the outside. There, he was greeted by a spectacular view as a dry thunderstorm rolled across the area.

He crouched in the door, not willing to venture out, as magnificent streaks of lightning lit up the sky, creating his own personal firework display, and watched in amazement.

Maybe there was hope after all, he thought, a slight smile forming on his lips as he watched the night sky. Maybe the universe hadn't forgotten about him after all.

He sat there most of the night, watching as the storm moved on and the stars came out.

Castle stood and stared at the constellations through the wall of the dome.

He was still on Earth and definitely in the northern hemisphere based on the stars he saw. If he could find Polaris and figure out its latitude, he might be able to narrow down where he was, not that it would do any good right now.

He quickly found Ursa Major and traced the stars with his finger to find Polaris. He then held up his right arm directly in front of him, palm toward him, with his little finger on the horizon and his pointer finger in parallel.

He walked his fingers up from the horizon to Polaris and counted the number of times he had done it – a little over 3 and a half – that would be almost 36 degrees north. When he and Alexis had visited the McDowell Observatory, Polaris was marked at 41 degrees north. So he definitely wasn't in New York anymore, which he easily figured out from the desert setting, but most probably in one of the lower southwestern states.

Perhaps Area 51? Could aliens have transported him to there to use him for research?

# # # # # # # # # #

Fred twirled a pen between his fingers, feet propped up on the countertop, as he glanced at the monitor occasionally while reading the latest issue of _Scientific American_.

Due to a work commitment, Sue hadn't been able to come for her planned visit, but they were going on a long get-away after this 3-month project ended. And he couldn't wait for it to be over – 5 days and counting, he thought, looking at the calendar.

He glanced at the screen and smiled slightly as he watched Castle lay out pieces of crackers in the different corners of the floor of the room and then under the table, leaving a small flashlight glowing on the table, and then finally climb back onto the bed, sitting still and waiting.

Since it was based on the premise that all people traveling to Mars would be totally committed to the venture, this test might not yield usable data due to the lack of commitment from the volunteer, but what could be more hilarious than watching a kangaroo rat as it slowly sniffed out its treats?

Oh, yeah, he had definitely sunk to a new low as he pulled out his iPhone and took a quick video. It was grainy, but he wasn't breaking any rules as long as the subject wasn't in the video.

A few hours later, there was the expected knock on the door and Jason walked in. "What's so funny?" he asked when he saw Fred's bemused look.

"Just our pet lab rat," replied Fred cryptically. He knew that Jason had no sense of humor so it was useless to share with him. "So I'll be back at 2000 hours."

# # # # # # # # # #

5 days later, Fred snuck Sue into the control room an hour before Jason was due back.

"Are you sure you won't get into trouble for this?" she whispered.

"Who's going to know?" asked Fred as he flipped on the monitor.

"So who's your mystery subject – you know, the one you can't discuss?" she asked.

"Him," said Fred as he turned on the monitor and pointed.

Sue watched the man for a minute as the man pedaled the exercise bike. "Hmmm, he looks familiar. Where have I seen him before?"

Fred grinned at her. "Try Richard Castle, the mystery writer."

"No way!" exclaimed Sue, looking back at him and then at the monitor. "Isn't he the guy who left his fiancé at the altar? Wasn't there a national manhunt on for him? It was on all the news shows."

Fred shrugged. "Jason said that was all a hoax. It's some big publicity stunt to build up the interest in his new book coming out next month." He pointed at the monitor. "He disappears under mysterious circumstances and then shows up right before the book launch and gets a ton of free publicity."

Sue frowned at him. "Really?"

Fred shrugged again. "Yeah – but who am I to argue with the big boss?"

"Okay," said Sue. "So what can you share? How exciting was it?"

It was Fred's turn to frown now. "About as exciting as watching paint dry," he responded. "You'd think he'd have more interest since he volunteered, but about the only thing he's done is dismantle the alarm. He didn't complete any of the scheduled tests, just the random ones."

"Huh," Sue said questioningly. "Maybe he decided it wasn't what he signed up for."

"Could be," replied Fred. He looked at his watch. "Why don't you go wait behind the hanger – I'll be there as soon as Jason gets here. And then look out, Baja."

Sue laughed as she gave him a quick kiss. "See you in a little while."

# # # # # # # # # #

Fred had everything packed and was ready to leave when Jason got there about 30 minutes later.

"Are you sure you don't need any help with the project analysis and completion paperwork?" he asked as he slung his backpack over his shoulder.

Jason shook his head. "No, I'll finish the report and send it in. But I do expect the next chapter of your dissertation in my inbox in a month."

Fred nodded. "Yes, sir. I'll be back in 2 weeks and you'll have it a week later."

Jason nodded back. "Have a good trip," he said as Fred walked out of the room.

He waited until he saw the car drive off on the outside monitor and then turned back to the control panel and smiled as he sat down in the control chair.

This is one experiment that would only end when Rick Castle was no longer part of this world.

# # # # # # # # # #


	6. Chapt 6 Two By Two Hands of Blue

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews. Rated high T for swearing. And for those in know, yep, yep, wink, wink. It means what it means and I'm borrowing a little.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 6 – Two By Two Hands of Blue**

# # # # # # # # # #

Two weeks in Baja had done wonders for Fred's spirit and then a week spent on his dissertation made him feel like he had finally accomplished something other than wasting the past three months of his life.

Today would start with a brief stop at the office to check the paperwork and then he'd head off to the labs to grab a quick lunch with Sue.

The offices of Paradigm Deep Space Exploration in Alamogordo, New Mexico – PDSE for short – were what you would think of when you thought of scientists – functional and comfortable since they spent a lot of time there, but without a lot of decoration as if it detracted from their purpose. The requisite fake plant in the corner of the reception almost drooped with the amount of dust on its leaves.

"Hey, Trish," said Fred as he walked in the door.

"So how was Baja?" Trish replied, smiling at him. "Did you pop the question?"

Fred put a finger to his lips. "I was thinking about doing that Christmas. Somehow putting an engagement ring in a dead fish's mouth didn't seem quite the right thing to do."

"Just make sure she doesn't eat it if you put it in plum pudding," responded Trish. "That never turns out so well."

"So anything I should know about?" asked Fred as he looked through the stack of mail in his box. Junk mail, junk mail, letter from volunteer, junk mail…

"All quiet on the Western front," laughed Trish. "Especially since Dr. Neidmyer is on vacation."

"Jason – on vacation?" asked Fred in astonishment.

"Yeah, took all his vacation days at one time – almost 2 months," Trish said.

"So he's touring Europe – going to symposiums across the pond?" Fred asked.

Trish shrugged. "Didn't say – just said he'd be out of touch for a while."

Fred frowned. Because the data on MIS 5B was just so…so…he couldn't even describe it, it had set him back several months on his dissertation. He was hoping to get another simulation in before the summer was over to supplement his dissertation on the effects of long-range space flight on human beings.

"And what brings you in on this beautiful day when you should be out enjoying the weather?" Trish asked.

"I just need to make sure the paperwork on our last volunteer is complete – you know, have all the i's dotted and t's crossed – because if anything happens, I know it will come back to me."

Trish nodded. "Know what you mean. Lesser grad students have met with sad fates. They just kinda slink off into the night after Neidmyer is finished with them, only to be seen working at the local burger joint."

# # # # # # # #

Fred turned on his monitor and logged into the system, waiting a few minutes as he sipped his coffee.

After the screen lit up, he called up the app and quickly searched for the file on MIS 5B. He frowned as only the information file came up and then pressed the intercom button.

"Trish, I was looking for the files on MIS 5B and don't find anything. Do you know if Dr. Neidmyer filed the paperwork yet?"

There was a pause. "No, it doesn't look like he's submitted anything yet."

"Thanks," said Fred. He looked at the screen in frustration. Neidmyer was notorious about not filing the paperwork, but if Fred hounded him too much, he was quick to point out who was in charge.

Well, he would do all the paperwork himself just to make sure his own ass was covered and he would be paid for those wasted 3 months. He would really be chapped if he lost money also.

Fred wrote down the address listed in the information file and quickly printed out a consent form and a brief letter requesting that it be signed, notarized, and returned as soon as possible on PDSE letter head. He shut off his monitor and picked up the sheets of paper he had printed and put them in his backpack.

"Trish," he said, walking up the receptionist desk. "Do you have two priority mail express envelopes?"

"Sure," the receptionist said as she took the envelopes out of a drawer. "Anything I can help with?"

Fred shook his head. "That's okay – I got this. The MIS 5B file doesn't have a release form and I want to make sure I get one – you know how picky the auditors are. I can drop this off at the post office on the way to pick up Sue for lunch. But please call me when the release form comes back."

"Sure thing," said Trish.

"See you later, alligator," said Fred as he walked out the door, waving.

"After while, crocodile," Trish responded with a smile.

She waited until he walked into the elevator outside before picking up the phone and dialing a number.

"We have a problem," she said simply. "Paperwork on MIS 5B is being sent out today and will be there tomorrow."

# # # # # # # #

The cell phone vibrated and was quickly answered. "Understood," was the reply. "We'll take care of it immediately."

# # # # # # # #

Jason smiled as he settled into what he considered his command chair to unleash his special brand of vengeance on his unsuspecting victim.

Sometimes as he flipped switches on the control panel, he imagined the scene from Phantom of the Opera where the disfigured man would sit at the organ and play his soulful tunes over and over.

But his malevolent acts were designed to destroy one man and he was taking great delight in doing so.

While the dwindling supplies brought a certain level of anxiety to Castle, they brought an almost giddy release to Jason. It would be over with soon and death from lack of water was not a pretty way to go. He might even kill the ventilation system and then tell him who he was near the end just for spite.

He was startled out of his reverie by the knock on the door. No one knew where he was, so why would they come here?

He flicked the monitor off and then walked over to open the door.

"Oh, Ms. Smith, I wasn't expecting you," he said, backing away as a woman in a tailored suit walked into the room, her high heels clicking on the floor.

"Hello, Dr. Neidmyer," Ms. Smith answered. "Of course, you weren't expecting me – we like to keep our audits a surprise. That makes the reports more accurate."

She looked around the room at the trash cans filled with empty food containers and frowned. "I thought you were attending a symposium in Nice."

Jason looked around the room. "Yeah, I had thought about that, but I wanted to make sure that everything was ready for the next test."

"I'm sure you do," Smith replied. "But what about your current test?" she questioned as she looked at him.

"Current test?" stammered Jason. "We're not running a scheduled test now."

"The unscheduled one you're currently running with Mr. Castle," Smith replied coolly, smiling at him. "Has that progressed to your satisfaction?"

"Uh – I –"

"Oh, you thought we wouldn't notice your little endeavor. The senior partners were very leery of allowing it to occur, but I found it amusing. " She flipped on the monitor and watched the man in the room for a minute.

"You see, Mr. Castle interfered with one of our plans." She turned back to Jason. "Now, we're so well diversified that we don't normally take the time for revenge, but your plan presented an intriguing possibility, so I green-lighted it."

Smith looked back at the monitor. "But now, thanks to your assistant, we find that it has called undue attention to our little company and I'm here to end the experiment."

"No, you can't!" exclaimed Jason.

"But I can," Smith smiled at him again and then stunned him with a Taser. She pulled on a pair of blue gloves and then walked to the door to let a tall man in. "Fortunately, you've very conveniently provided us with a scape goat."

She looked at the tall man. "Take care of this."

"What about Castle?" asked the man, pulling on a pair of similar blue gloves.

Smith looked at the screen and frowned slightly. "Unfortunately we can't kill him outright – that would cause too much unwanted attention." She pressed a button. "But if he dies in the desert escaping the trap that Dr. Neidmyer set, well, that's killing two birds with one stone."

She looked at the monitor again as Castle watched the door slide open. "So choose your doom, Mr. Castle – the lady or the tiger?"

# # # # # # # #


	7. Chapter 7 The Start of the Trek

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews – they really mean a lot. Yes, another chapter from me this weekend. I want to finish this up fairly quickly because September 29th will be here before you know it, but I have a couple of more chapters to go.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 7 – The Start of the Trek**

# # # # # # # #

Castle froze as he watched the door to the outside slide open on its own accord, startled by the sudden movement. Well trained by now, he glanced back at the screen but it was dark.

He approached the door cautiously, peering up into the short tunnel, and could see the door at the top was open too, daylight streaming down the stairs.

What the hell was going on? The doors were never unlocked during the day.

He carefully crept up the stairs, pausing at the top to shield his eyes. He hadn't seen the sun in months and found that even squinting didn't help much as he stepped outside into the bright light.

Well, the red-tinted dome was still there – that hadn't changed. But the door to the outside – could it be open too?

He quickly walked to where the door was, holding his breath as he tried the handle. As it turned and opened, he let out a long breath and pressed his head against the dome for several minutes.

But now he had a decision to make – stay at the enclosure and hope that someone who would eventually find him, or walk out into the desert and find someone himself.

He knew immediately what his decision was – he had been careful, but he was down to his last 20 bottles of water and once those were gone, there would be no others to replace them. If he was lucky, he might find a source of water while he walked.

Castle nodded to himself and then looked around for a rock to prop the door open with. It would be devastating to get his hopes up and then have them crushed if the door were to shut and lock.

He found one that was suitable and propped the door open before hurrying back down the stairs into the storage room.

Now that he had made up his mind, what would he need? The water of course and what was left of the k-rations. The flashlight, the survival blanket – maybe he could signal someone with that. Too bad he didn't have a knife, but he would take the screwdriver.

What could he carry them in though? He looked around and grabbed one of the remaining jumpsuits and knotted the legs at the knees and the arms at the elbows. That would make a suitable backpack.

He stuffed the small pile of supplies into the jumpsuit, zipped it up, and then looked around for anything else he might need. An extra jumpsuit to use as a head covering – and there had been a pair of sunglasses in one of the crates…

Castle quickly shuffled through the contents, fished the pair out, and hooked them to the front of his jumpsuit.

Now what, he thought. He glanced at the bathroom but didn't want to chance it in case this was some perverted trap. It wasn't like he couldn't stop by a cactus on his walk.

He quickly went back up the stairs, carrying his makeshift backpack, and stopped just outside the door.

It would be too hot to travel by day, so he'd walk at night, starting tonight. He sat down in the doorway, his back against the door because he wasn't sure it wouldn't close also and cut off his desperate bid for freedom, and waited for the sun to set.

# # # # # # # #

Castle slept on and off during the day, more off than on, sitting in the shade of the door, and finally roused himself when the sun set.

He waited for another hour until the temperature cooled down and then set off from the false sense of security that the enclosure gave.

He paused for a moment, studying the stars as they came out to get his bearings. There – the north star – but wait, there was another star that was moving and at a fairly low altitude. A plane landing? That's the direction he would go. Hopefully the airport wouldn't be too far away.

The lonesome howling of the coyotes rattled his nerves, but the desert was beautiful at night, the almost full moon shining enough light so that he could see where he was going.

He closed his eyes for a minute, so wishing that this was Kate and him walking on the beach in the Maldives, and then started walking again.

As the sun was rising, he found a small rock cropping that he could use to shade himself. He made sure there were no scorpions and snakes in it before settling back against the rock, pulling the survival blanket over himself.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett sighed as she walked into the loft. Today had been another bad day. Not only was there another phone call from the creep who had been stalking her, but the latest Richard Castle sighting had turned out to be false.

Martha sat at the table while Alexis was cooking dinner.

"Katherine," the older woman said quickly. "I'm so glad you're finally home."

"Why? What happened?" Beckett asked worriedly.

"Dad got a letter," Alexis said, putting down the spoon she was using and pointing to an envelope on the counter. "Mr. Mathews brought it up a few minutes ago. We wanted to wait until you got here to open it."

"Good idea," said Beckett as she slipped on her gloves. She picked up the envelope and carefully opened it and found two sheets of paper and another priority mail express envelope inside.

Martha and Alexis stood behind her and read the letter over her shoulder.

_Dear Mr. Richard Castle:_

_Thank you for volunteering to be part of the Mars Isolation Simulation. Your participation is vital in our understanding of how long-term isolation will affect humans when they travel to Mars. _

Kate looked at Martha and Alexis questioningly. "Did he mention volunteering for any experiment to either of you?"

"No," Martha and Alexis said in unison, shaking their heads.

Beckett went back to reading the letter.

_Unfortunately, your release form for the experiment has been misplaced. Please sign the enclosed form in front of a notary and mail it back to us in the enclosed envelope as soon as possible so that the payment for your services can be processed. _

_Again, we appreciate your help in this endeavor._

_Sincerely,_

_Fred Simms_

_Assistant Director _

Beckett frowned as she looked at the other paper and then focused on the dates listed. "Martha, the date the experiment began – it was the day after the wedding."

"And it ended three weeks ago," said Martha, looking at the paper. "I don't understand."

Alexis looked at Kate. "Is this some kind of hoax?"

Beckett shook her head. "I don't know, but I'm going to find out." She quickly took pictures of the two pieces of paper on her phone and then dialed Espo's number.

"Espo, I think I have something. Can you and Ryan meet me at the precinct in 30 minutes?"

# # # # # # # #

Ryan looked at the website he brought up based on the url listed at the bottom of the letter and then looked at Beckett, Espo, and Gates.

"Paradigm Deep Space Exploration is located in Alamogordo, New Mexico," he started. "It's a privately funded think tank researching deep space exploration and the effects on humans. Hmmm, you can volunteer if you want to – for research, not a flight to Mars. Their goal is to put humans on Mars in the next 50 years."

"Ryan, see if you can track down this Fred Simms," said Captain Gates.

Ryan nodded and turned back to his computer.

Beckett looked at her watch. "It's 6 pm here, which makes it 4 pm in New Mexico. Let's see if anyone is in the office."

Espo dialed the number on the letterhead and put the phone on speaker.

The automated phone system picked up on the second ring.

"Thank you for calling Paradigm Deep Space Exploration. If you know your party's extension, please dial it now. Otherwise, please remain on the line and the operator will direct your call."

Hold music came on the line and then the phone rang again.

"Paradigm Deep Space Exploration, this is Trish. How may I direct your call?" came the response.

"Yes, this is Detectives Esposito and Beckett and Captain Gates of the New York Police Department. We have some questions about a letter your firm sent Mr. Richard Castle yesterday."

"Why? Is there a problem, detective?" Trish asked.

"Yes, Mr. Castle has been missing for almost 3 months and we suspect foul play. His family just received a letter from your company asking for his signature on a release form for the Mars Isolation Simulation."

"Oh, my goodness. That is so sad to hear," said Trish. "Let me put you through to Stella, our office manager."

The call was quickly transferred.

"This is Stella Stone. How may I help you?"

"Ms. Stone, this is Captain Gates of the New York Police Department. One of our volunteers, a Mr. Richard Castle, has been missing for almost 3 months and he received a letter from your company today asking for his signature on a release form for the Mars Isolation Simulation. The start date on the letter was the day after he disappeared."

"Oh, that's terrible," said Stone. "We'll be glad to help in whatever way possible."

"Thank you. Do you have any record of Mr. Castle volunteering for the experiment?"

"I'm looking now," came the reply. "No, no – I don't see his name on our list of volunteers."

"And what about Fred Simms? He's listed as the assistant director of the project on the letter," Espo asked.

"No, this is obviously some sort of a hoax. Dr. Jason Neidmyer is the director of the program," said Stone.

"How do we get in contact with Dr. Neidmyer?" asked Gates.

"I'm afraid he's unreachable at the present. He's in Europe for the next couple of weeks on a symposium tour," responded Stone.

"Is there anyone else can we talk to about the project?" asked Espo.

"Not right now," said Stone. "Due to budget cuts, we finished all of the scenarios for the year in July so we've downsized the staff."

"Any name will be fine," said Beckett.

"I'm sorry," said Stone. "What we do here is highly proprietary. If you want to speak with anyone about it, you'll need to get a court order."

Ryan motioned to them from his computer.

"Thank you for your assistance, Ms. Stone," said Captain Gates. She motioned for Espo to hang up the phone. "What have you got, Detective Ryan?"

Ryan pointed to his screen. "Dr. Neidmyer is a professor of psychology, physics, and astronomy at University of New Mexico. He has co-written several papers about the psychological effects of space flight on humans with Fred Simms."

Gates frowned at that. "See what you can find on Fred Simms. Beckett, please call Mr. Branson and tell him that Paradigm Deep Space Exploration was not very cooperative when we called."

She looked at the letterhead. "I'm sure the department can cover 3 flights to New Mexico to talk to these people."

# # # # # # # #


	8. Chapter 8 Misdirection

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews – they really mean a lot. Rated high T for swearing and innuendo.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 8 – Misdirection**

# # # # # # # #

Castle stared at the full moon, not sure he had seen anything so beautiful before, but maybe he was delirious and he was certainly becoming dehydrated. He had yet to find a source of water and his water supply was becoming dangerously low even though he was rationing it out slowly.

He wasn't sure how far he had walked that night and knew that if he didn't find civilization in the next day or two, he never would.

He watched the heavens for a minute more and then saw his moving star and started walking, following its trail.

"Button up, kitten, we're going home," he muttered dryly to himself.

# # # # # # # #

Before sun rise, Beckett, Espo, Ryan, and Branson were headed to the Alamogordo-White Sands Regional Airport on a privately chartered jet.

Several months ago, Castle had surprised Kate with a credit card with unlimited balance, which she flatly turned down, saying that she wasn't marrying him for his money.

He insisted she keep it to use on a rainy day, and that rainy day was now here, a very expensive rainy day and one she vowed to pay back to him when she saw him again.

A commercial flight would take too long since they would have to land in El Paso first and then rent a car for the 90 minute drive, wasting precious time in their search.

Now, they could spend the 5-1/2 hours researching Paradigm Deep Space Exploration, Dr. Neidmyer, and Fred Simms, and their connections to Castle uninterrupted during their flight.

"Got it," said Ryan about half way through the flight. "Neidmyer was a mathematics teaching assistant at the same college that Castle attended. They must have crossed paths there. Maybe we should put in a call to Castle's ex," he suggested. "See what she has to say."

"Meredith or Gina?" asked Espo.

"Nah, Kyra – you know, his first?" said Ryan.

"Good idea," said Beckett after a minute.

Espo shot Ryan a look as Beckett got up to get more coffee.

# # # # # # # #

A car from the local FBI branch was waiting for them when they landed.

"We've located Mr. Simms – he has an apartment 5 minutes from here," said Agent Reyes. "Dr. Neidmyer is currently at a symposium in Nice according to his passport and FAA travel records."

"Simms is our first stop then," said Beckett as she got into the car.

# # # # # # # #

"They're on the way to talk to Simms now," said Stone. "What do you want us to do?"

Smith looked at the woman on the monitor thoughtfully. "It's not unexpected. Scrub the project and salt the earth."

"Understood." The screen went blank.

Smith drummed her long manicured fingernails on the desk for a few more moments and then turned to the folder on her desk. She had other, more pressing matters to attend to.

A few minutes later, there was a knock on the door.

"Come in," she said. She looked up at the man entered the room. "Ah, Julian. What have you got for me?"

"Dr. Neidmyer's computer at the university only contains the data from the tests he's run; nothing that would implicate PDSE. But I did run across something interesting while perusing his emails," the man said walking into the room. "It seems our good doctor hired a hit man to kill Mr. Castle in case his plan failed."

Stone sat back in the chair and frowned at the man. Few things rarely surprised her. "Well, give the maniac his due; he thought this through."

"What do you want me to do about the hit man?"

She thought for a minute. "Nothing. That may actually work in our favor."

She thought for a minute more. "Anything on the police scanner yet about Castle?"

Julian shook his head. "No. He might already be dead."

Stone leaned forward slightly, putting her elbows on the desk and steepling her fingers. "I wouldn't count on it. Castle has a way of surprising people." She looked at him. "But to be sure, I want to continue Dr. Neidmyer's project."

Stone leaned back in her chair. "We don't have to kill Mr. Castle – just distract him, confuse him."

She paused a moment. "Castle is a people-person – he thrives on interaction. So we remove that interaction – make him doubt the people around him."

She nodded. "By the time we're finished with him, he may just put himself back into isolation."

Julian nodded. "I'll be in touch," he said.

"Good," said Stone as the man walked out the door.

# # # # # # # #

The knock on the door roused Fred from a sound sleep.

"Just a minute," he said as he stumbled to the door, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes and combing a hand through his hair.

He opened the door and stared at the people standing there.

"Fred Simms," said Branson, showing him his badge. "I'm Agent Branson of the FBI, and these are Detectives Beckett, Esposito, and Ryan of the New York Police Department. We have some questions to ask you about Mr. Richard Castle and Paradigm Deep Space Exploration."

"Sure," said Fred, opening the door further. "Would you like to come in? And pardon the mess; I wasn't expecting company. I'm finishing up my dissertation."

Beckett and the others walked into the small living room. Books and papers covered almost all available surface space.

"So what can I help you with?" asked Fred.

"Did you send Richard Castle this letter?" Branson asked, holding up the release form.

"Wow – all he needed to do was sign it and send it back, not send a whole army," said Fred.

"So you've seen him?" Beckett asked hopefully.

Fred took a deep breath. "Well, I'm not at liberty to discuss the research that PDSE is doing, but yes, I have."

"Can you tell us the dates that you saw him?" Branson asked.

Fred nodded and pointed to the letter. "During that time shown in the letter. He had volunteered to be part of one of our research projects."

"And when did you see him last?" asked Beckett.

"A little over 3 weeks ago – right before the project finished. Dr. Neidmyer was going to wrap everything up," replied Fred. "Say, what's this all about? He hasn't changed his mind, has he? It's a little late for that."

"We have reason to believe that Dr. Neidmyer kidnapped Mr. Castle and is holding him against his will," said Branson. "Mr. Castle has not been seen in nearly 3-1/2 months."

Fred looked at him for a moment. "Well, that would certainly explain the results of the test."

# # # # # # # #

Branson quickly sent a team to secure Dr. Neidmyer's office at the university while he and the others drove to the PDSE simulation complex about 30 minutes outside of town.

Espo and Ryan rode with Fred with Espo driving Fred's car and Branson and Beckett following in the agency car.

"And you didn't think anything strange was going on?" Espo asked Fred.

Fred shook his head. "No, it seemed like a normal test, but then again, we have a 75% failure rate. After a couple of weeks, most people find that they can't stand the isolation, so they just push the button to end the test. I thought he was being a jackass when he didn't push it. Sorry."

"How often do you run these tests?" asked Ryan.

"At this facility, we do one every 3-1/2 months, so about 3 a year. PDSE has other facilities they run shorter tests at also. We're trying to determine the best personality traits suited for long-term space flight," Fred responded.

"And how long have you been involved in this project?" asked Espo.

"Dr. Neidmyer was assigned as my PhD advisor a year and a half ago, so I volunteered then. I heard you got brownie points if you did," said Fred.

"Brownie points for kidnapping," said Espo. "That's a new one."

"Hey, I didn't know that Dr. Neidmyer was up to anything. He was just his usual strange self," said Fred. "But he did ask me to call him Jason when this scenario started and said that we were in it together. That should have been a red flag."

He paused for a moment and looked at the 2 detectives. "Hey, you don't think I could run a battery of psych tests on Mr. Castle when we find him? It would really help my research…"

He trailed off at the look the 2 man gave him. "Guess not."

He sat up straighter and pointed to the road on the left. "There – turn left there. The complex is about 3 miles down this road."

# # # # # # # #

Julian picked his spot carefully just so the cameras could almost see him and pulled out the burner phone from his pocket.

He quickly dialed the number he knew by heart and started the prescribed transcript.

"Kate – oh my god – I thought I'd never hear your voice again. It sounds so good, even if it's just your voice mail. There was a crash and I got out to talk to the people and then I woke up in this beige room – it was underground. I am so sorry about the wedding. It was your big day and I messed it up."

His voice broke slightly. "And the honeymoon – three weeks in the Maldives – I missed that too. I miss the way you look, moaning under me when I…"

He smiled as he continued the litany for several minutes and then hung up as he heard sirens in the distance.

He removed the battery from the phone and walked down the street out of camera view before sidestepping into an alley and quickly stripped off the grey jumpsuit and fake beard, stuffing them into the jacket he put on.

He waited a few more minutes as a police car pulled up to the spot and two officers jumped out, quickly scanning the area.

"Hey," one of the officers said to him. "Did you a man in a grey jumpsuit with a beard around here a few minutes ago?"

Julian thought for a moment. "Yeah, yeah – the homeless-looking guy? He was talking on the phone and mumbling crazy things. I think he walked down that way," he said, pointing down the street.

"Thanks," said the officer as they got back in the car and drove slowly down the street.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett's phone buzzed as they arrived at the complex. She took it out of her pocket and glanced down at the screen and then closed her eyes momentarily. It was another unknown caller, but she knew without a doubt who it was.

She quickly pocketed the phone as she got out of the car.

"You okay?" Branson asked.

"Yeah. They just haven't caught the guy yet," she said, tightlipped.

They walked over to the door where Fred, Espo, and Ryan stood.

"This is where we run the simulations. The control room is the warehouse and the isolation room is about a mile down the road," said Fred.

He swiped his badge and the door to the large warehouse opened. The temperature was fairly warm, the ventilation system obviously having been off for quite some time.

"The control room is over there," Fred said.

He paused when he saw the light coming from the door. "Hmmm, there's not supposed to be anyone here."

"Can anyone else access the control room?" Branson asked.

"No, just Dr. Neidmyer and myself," replied Fred.

"Okay, swipe your badge and then stand back," said Branson quietly. He pointed to the detectives who upholstered their pieces and stood at the ready. "I'll go in first."

Fred swiped his badge and then stood back as the door slid open. "Oh, man, what is that smell?" he said, covering his nose, trying not to gag.

Branson cautiously stepped into the room and then quickly stepped back out. "Dr. Neidmyer," he said simply.

"If you'll walk back outside and don't touch anything," he said to Fred as he pulled out his phone. "Yeah, got a dead body – we'll need CSU immediately."

"Castle," said Beckett suddenly. She whirled on Fred. "Could he still be in the isolation tank?"

"I don't know," said Fred, shaking his head. "I left the morning that the test was supposed to be over. Dr. Neidmyer was going to wrap everything up."

"Then take us there now," Beckett said urgently.

"Yeah, it's just right down the road."

"Espo, you're with me. Ryan, you stay here," Beckett said as they rushed toward Fred's car.

# # # # # # # #

They reached the red dome in a matter of minutes, the car screeching to a halt.

Beckett ran to the door and yanked it open before running to the small shack. That door was open also.

"It's underground," said Fred. "We were trying to simulate conditions on Mars. This scenario has the dwellings underground."

"Castle!" Beckett yelled as she carefully ran down the stairs to the underground bunker.

Fred and Espo quickly followed her.

She looked around the room anxiously, not finding anyone, and then ran into the other room.

"He's not here," she said as she came back out. "He's gone."

Fred looked around the room, eyes wide. "No, no – he was never here. This isn't the room he was in."

# # # # # # # #


	9. Chapter 9 Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews – they really mean a lot. Hmmm, this is a short chapter but it is Sunday evening and tomorrow is Monday, and I'm being mean again…duh…duh…duh…

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 9 – Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust**

# # # # # # # #

Local agents quickly swarmed over the complex like ants, looking for clues as to what had disturbed their nest.

Agents in Albuquerque also quickly locked down Neidmyer's office at the university to search for evidence and confiscated his laptop.

Because of the heat in the control room, the coroner needed more time to determine when Dr. Neidmyer had died – correction, had committed suicide – but the note Neidmyer left, along with the numerous pictures of Castle with his face crossed out, left little to the imagination.

"I'll never tell and you'll never find him," it said simply. "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust."

Two agents had taken Fred to their field office to get his statement.

Beckett frowned as she watched the agents milling about in organized chaos.

"What are you thinking, Detective?" asked Branson.

"This doesn't make any sense," she replied. "Fred said that Castle was in an isolation tank, but it wasn't this one. To build one of those would take millions of dollars – where did he get the money to do that? Or did they have a spare one that Fred didn't know about?"

Branson nodded. "I had those same thoughts myself. So why don't we visit PDSE? I'm sure they'll have answers."

Beckett nodded. "Epso, Ryan," she called out to the two detectives who were talking to an agent.

# # # # # # # #

With sirens blaring, the drive to the address on the letterhead took less than 30 minutes.

Beckett quickly checked the building directory by the elevator. "There, suite 300 – PDSE," she said.

She tamped down her anxiety as they rode the elevator up to the 3rd floor.

Suite 300 was directly across from the elevators, a simple sign PDSE labeled the door.

Beckett tried the handle but it was locked.

"Here, let me," said Branson as he stepped forward. "Federal agents – open up," he said, pounding on the door but that got no response either.

"There was a management office on the first floor," said Ryan.

The ride to the first floor was just as quick as the ride up and the team walked into the management office.

Branson flashed his badge at the receptionist. "I'm Agent Branson with the FBI. I need any information you have on PDSE in suite 300."

The woman looked at the badge and shrugged. She turned to the computer and pulled up a file. "PDSE – they are a rebate fulfillment company and had a six month lease which expired yesterday, so they moved out. And there's no forwarding address on file."

She looked at them. "But that's typical of these companies. They start up a couple of months after Christmas, process rebate checks, and then close down after they make their money."

"Are there any names on the lease?" Branson asked.

"Only one – Miguel Ramirez, phone number 800-555-5555. And that's all I have."

"Do you have any security cameras?" Beckett asked.

"No. That's the responsibility of each tenant," the receptionist replied.

"We'll need to have CSU sweep the office," said Branson.

"Uh, the cleaning people came in this morning," replied the receptionist.

"Just the same, CSU will be here in about 30 minutes. We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't let anyone else into the office until it's been cleared."

"Sure," said the receptionist.

"Thank you for your time," Branson said.

They walked back out to the car.

Branson pulled out his phone and pressed an icon on the screen. "This is Agent Branson. They've flown the nest. I need CSU here at PDSE to sweep the office. And get me everything you can find on them and dig deep."

"Neidmyer had an apartment near here," said Beckett, reigning in her fear. "That's our next stop."

# # # # # # # #

After they flashed their badges and told him that Neidmyer had met an unfortunate end, the apartment manager was more conducive to letting them into the apartment.

His only comments were that Neidmyer's lease was up on a couple of days and he already had someone who wanted to lease the apartment. All he needed to know was who was going to claim Neidmyer's belongings.

Branson said they'd let him know as they walked into the apartment.

The team quickly pulled on their gloves to begin the search.

The apartment was plain, functional, with no decorations, and almost nothing in it. It looked like a façade also, set dressing for a play in case anyone stopped by.

What little food there was in the refrigerator had already gone rancid, the few dishes in the sink crushed over.

While Branson and Ryan checked the living room, Beckett and Espo went to check the bedroom.

The mattress on the floor was unmade, a pile of sheets and assorted clothes in the corner. Espo knelt down and carefully picked through them.

"Nothing here," said Espo. "But, man, does he need to wash these. Not that he will now," he retracted, realizing what he said.

Beckett slid open the closet door and looked for a light – there was none. "Just a couple of shirts and pants. No shoes," she said, surveying the contents.

She started to close it and then paused for a moment at the sound of paper rustling. "Espo, there's something on the back of the front door," she said, shining her flashlight between the two doors. "I can't make it out though."

"Huh," said Espo.

Beckett stepped into the closet, closed it, and then turned on her flashlight to look at the papers taped to the door.

And then she did something she had never done in all her years of being a street-hardened bad-ass cop – she screamed.

# # # # # # # #


	10. Chapter 10 Lost and Found and Lost Again

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the favs, follows, and reviews – they really mean a lot. Watching the last episode of Castle season 6 before the new season starts in two weeks – yeah! Sorry - got distracted and left out a big plot point, so I've moved the last scene to the start of the next chapter.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 10 – Lost and Found and Lost Again**

# # # # # # # #

Castle leaned back against the rock, bone weary, barely breathing, trying to save what little energy he had left and not sure he could even move at this point.

After a while, he dreamed that a dementor was hovering over him, threatening to suck the life out of him, its long robes touching his face. Too bad he didn't have any chocolate, but he doubted he could eat it with the foul stench that was overwhelming him.

Foul stench? JK Rowlings never said they smelt badly.

He opened his eyes and then kicked out suddenly, causing the vulture to miss its intended target as its sharp beak came down, leaving a bloody trail along his ribs.

The big bird flopped off, hissing slightly that it had lost its meal, and seemed uninterested in him after he starting moving, obviously one of the undead.

Castle squinted in the air and saw several more birds circling. Yep, it was time to get up and move on even though it was daylight.

Look on the bright side (no pun intended), he thought as he struggled to get up, holding his side, and started trudging through the desert. He could use this as research for a future book, assuming he had a future…

# # # # # # # #

"It's okay, chica," said Espo as Beckett sat in a chair in the living room, her head between her knees until the dizziness passed. "It's not him. They're just pictures."

"Wow," said Ryan as he carefully handled the photos he had pulled off the back of the closet door after Espo had gotten Kate out of there. "This was one sick dude, but very gifted."

The photos, obviously photoshopped, showed Castle in a variety of death poses – his broken body twisted on a mountain side after a climbing accident, his mangled body lying underneath a van in the aftermath of a wreck, his rotting remains lying in a room reminiscent of the isolation tank, his bloated body washed up on a shore some place. But the winner with the big red circle around it had to be the scene in the desert where coyotes had dined on the body and vultures were now finishing it off, obviously still Castle but with parts missing.

"Wow," Ryan said again as he bagged the photos.

"You okay?" Espo said as Beckett finally raised her head.

"Yeah," Beckett nodded, using the heel of her hand to rub tear streaks off her face. "They just looked so real," she whispered. "What if we don't find him, Javi? One of those—"

Espo quickly cut her off. "We'll find him, Kate. We'll get him back."

Branson walked back into the apartment. "CSU is here to do their sweep," he said as several agents walked into the apartment.

"What about Simms?" Beckett asked, standing up. "Uh – how'd he know that Castle wasn't in that isolation tank?"

"The ventilation grate," said Branson. "It was on the opposite wall in the one Castle was in."

"And he has no idea where it is?" asked Espo.

"No," said Branson, shaking his head. "Simms gave us the names of the volunteers he worked with, but all of those tests were at this facility. He doesn't know of any other locations where tests could have taken place." Branson frowned. "We've requested satellite imagery of the southwestern US but it will take a couple of days to get that and then several more days to analyze it. And we're running down all leads on PDSE, but they've gone to ground. At this point, everything's going to take time."

He looked at the team.

"I know you want to help on the investigation, but there's nothing else we can do right now," said Branson. "You might consider going back to New York. We'll let you know if anything pops."

Beckett nodded, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you," she said quietly.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett watched the setting sun as the jet climbed to cruising altitude. She had vowed to herself not to come back empty-handed and was grateful that she hadn't said anything to Martha and Alexis about this. She couldn't face them right now, knowing that she had failed.

She had felt the same helplessness when Alexis was kidnapped a couple of years ago.

She looked at Espo and Ryan who were lost in their own thoughts.

"Was it like this when I went missing on that undercover assignment?" she finally asked. "I can't imagine what you went through."

She had been fighting for her life then, just as Castle probably was now if…no, she wouldn't let herself go there because that would make at least one of those awful pictures true.

# # # # # # # #

The flashing light in the distance had finally caught Caste's eye, causing him to veer off course and stumble towards it. He fervently hoped that it wasn't a mirage because he was down to his last 2 bottles of water.

After they were gone, it wouldn't make a difference.

The building grew in size as he got closer to it and he could finally make out what it was – a gas station. The light of the setting sun had been reflecting off of the gas pumps.

And just his luck, he thought as he finally reached the building. It was closed down – the price sign out front missing several of its numbers.

He yanked on the metal folding gate that covered the front door and windows several times, but it wouldn't budge.

He slowly walked around the building, looking for an access, when he spotted a crowbar lying in a trash heap near the building. That might work to pry the back door open, he thought as he picked it up.

He walked to the back door and examined the it.

Maybe luck was on his side this time – the lock on the door had apparently broken, only to be replaced by a double hinged hasp and a padlock.

Good, he thought, I can do this.

He inserted the crow bar through the top loop of the padlock and then applied pressure to force the body of the lock away from the loop. He was finally rewarded with a loud pop as the two parts of the lock separated.

Castle pulled the crowbar out and then opened the door, keeping a firm grasp on the crowbar in case something else had taken refuge inside the gas station.

He carefully walked inside, using the last of the daylight to find the light switches, and breathed a sigh of relief when the lights flickered and then came on. At least he had electricity – and air conditioning, he smiled, as he found the AC switches and flicked them on.

Now that he had shelter, the next order of survival was to find something to eat and drink, then a way to contact Kate.

The owners had obviously intended to come back because the inside was still partially stocked – a couple of cases of water sat on the shelf, a couple of boxes of crackers on another, packets of jerky on a display.

Well, that will have to do for now, thought Castle, as he used the screwdriver to slit the plastic surrounding the water. He grabbed a bottle and downed it quickly, savoring the water as it hit his parched throat.

Now to contact Kate and outside civilization in that order…

He looked around for a landline, but didn't find one, so he started prowling through the store.

He finally found a cardboard box tucked in a corner of the office, obviously the lost and found from the items inside of it, but he had hit the jackpot – two prepaid phones whose batteries were still charged.

He thumbed one on, holding his breath as it came to life, and then quickly checked the minutes. Damn, only 2 minutes. He tried the next one and this one had 3 minutes.

Okay, the one with 3 minutes would work for calling Kate. He could always call 911 from any working phone – assuming they had 911 out here.

He looked around to see if he could figure out exactly where he was before he made either call. The star on the map on the wall was placed at Jean, Nevada, but he wasn't in a town.

He had seen a glow on the horizon last night and had been wondering if he would actually make it that far before his body gave out.

He quickly dialed Beckett's number and counted the rings until her voice mail picked up.

Castle gulped as he heard her voice and took a deep breath. He had to start talking.

"Kate," he said finally. "I thought I'd never hear your voice again." He tried to keep his voice from shaking since he had less than 3 minutes and desperately needed to get his message across. "I was talking to you and then there was a crash and I got out to talk to the people and then I woke up in this beige room. But I got out and I'm fine now. I'm so sorry about the wedding. And the honeymoon – 3 weeks in the Maldives. Oh, god, how I missed that - seeing you walk on the beach, seeing you scuba diving for the first time, seeing you at sunset. This phone is running out of minutes. I'm at this gas station near Jean, Nevada. I think that's near Las Vegas because I see a lot of lights in the distance. I'm going to call 911 now. Kate, I've missed you so much. I love you."

Castle waited a moment more before hanging up the phone and picking up the other one. He quickly dialed 911 and waited expectantly.

Finally the operator answered. "911 Las Vegas – what is your emergency?"

"Yes, my name is Richard Castle. I'm in a closed gas station in Jean, Nevada. Uh—" What should he say? He was kidnapped by some unknown person and held captive underground in a tiny room for several months from what he could tell, and then mysteriously let go so he could wander in the desert?

"Sir, do you have a life-threatening emergency?"

Yes, a vulture tried to eat me today," Castle replied.

"Sir, they do not eat live people."

"They thought I was dead – hell, I thought I was dead."

"Sir, do you have an emergency?"

"Yes, I got lost in the desert for several days and finally found this closed gas station."

"I see," said the operator. "And where are you calling from now?"

"Inside the closed gas station," replied Castle.

"I'll have a squad car there in a moment."

"Thanks, I'd appreciate it," said Castle.

"Just wait right there," said the operator.

"Trust me, I'm not going anywhere," said Castle. He hung up the phone and sank down to the floor, resting his head against the counter. He then opened another bottle of water and drank it.

# # # # # # # #

The screaming sirens finally roused Castle from the stupor he had been in. He quickly raised both his hands over his head as several police officers barreled into the gas station with their guns drawn.

# # # # # # # #


	11. Chapt 11 Always Darkest Before the Dawn

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Sorry – got distracted last night watching For Better or Worse and left out a major plot point in Chapt 10 as to why Beckett doesn't listen to the messages. Hopefully this is a little more cohesive.

And sorry, GeekMom, the two new characters just walked into the story this morning of their own accord and I thought I was finished adding new characters, but they aren't part of the conspiracy.

I am taking literary license with the pace of Castle's arraignment because that doesn't happen this fast in real life from the web searches I've done. It usually takes a couple of days of sitting around in jail and waiting for them to decide whether or not they are going to charge you.

Rated high T for swearing and innuendo.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 11 – Always Darkest Before the Dawn**

# # # # # # # #

The booking process in Las Vegas was no different than the booking process in New York, a process that Castle was intimately familiar with, having been booked for several indiscretions in the past.

The arresting officers wrote down Castle's personal information, rolling their eyes slightly when he urged them to run his fingerprints through the database to confirm who he was.

They then recorded his crime – burglary, a category B felony in Nevada, punishable by 1 to 10 years in prison, plus a fine of up to $10,000.

When they performed a record search for his criminal background, they found a missing persons report on him, but it was hard to believe that the disheveled, filthy man in front of them was the carefully groomed man in the picture.

They also found a BOLO that was more believable – a tall, bearded, disheveled man in a grey jumpsuit in the Las Vegas area was wanted for making threatening phone calls to a NYPD police officer. Perhaps they were one in the same?

They then fingerprinted and photographed him, another mug shot to add to his collection.

Castle urged them to call Detective Beckett and Captain Gates of the NYPD – they'd vouch for him – which again raised eyebrows.

The body search yielded nothing but the 2 burner phones Castle had slipped inside the jumpsuit in case he needed them again.

They then put him in a holding cell until arraignment in early morning court. There was the usual assortment of miscreants in there with him, but he didn't have to worry as they all slowly gravitated away from him.

For once, he was glad he hadn't bathed in several days – really forever if you didn't count the waterless gel he had been using for months. He felt like he had layers of dead skin and grit on him and really wanted nothing more than a hot shower to wash it off.

But he had also been alone for so long – so used to the quiet – that noises startled him and he didn't like the reaction every time he jumped.

Surely Kate would call the Las Vegas police department and straighten everything out.

# # # # # # # #

It was after midnight before the jet finally touched down in NYC. On the trip back, Beckett had called Martha to tell her that she would staying at her apartment for several days.

The excuse was that she would be spending a lot of time helping a colleague prepare for an important trial; the real reason was that she couldn't face spending another night in their empty bed after this failed attempt to find Castle and the knowledge that they were running out of time.

Beckett unlocked the door of her apartment and flipped on the light as she walked in.

She quickly checked her phone and frowned at the blinking light indicating one voice mail from an unknown caller.

Beckett closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She should have taken Branson's offer to get another phone number, but this would be the number that Castle would call if…

She touched the play button and listened until the message got to the word honeymoon and then stopped the message and deleted it. The FBI had a copy of it that they would analyze to help build a case against the man making the calls.

When the calls started, Branson called in an expert on stalking and sexual harassment in the form of Agnes Beecham, a matronly gray hair woman who had cut her teeth working at the bureau when it was the dominion of the testosterone-fueled male species.

After several years in the bureau, Beecham had found her calling and focused her efforts into hunting down sexual predators and bringing them to justice, making sure that the cases against them were iron-clad so that these monsters would be put away for as long as the law allowed.

Beecham was always sympathetic with the victims, quickly gaining their trust and advocating for them at every turn. She was discreet, but could take a firm stand when needed.

After meeting with her several times, Beckett trusted her implicitly.

When Beecham asked delicate questions, she never looked at Beckett askance when the detective answered honestly. Yes, they had a healthy sex life and Castle had said similar things before, but never when he knew someone could be listening. He wasn't the kind to kiss and tell anymore, not that he told that much previously.

Beckett looked at the bottle of Scotch on the countertop, but decided against it. If she started now, she might drown herself in it and that wouldn't do anyone any good.

She stripped off her clothes, pulled on a t-shirt, and climbed into bed, hugging the pillow tightly, wishing it could be Castle she was hugging.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett was in the middle of a yoga workout, trying to find her center, when her phone rang at 7 am. She checked the screen and saw that it was Gates. Why would she call this early?

"Beckett," she answered.

"Kate," said Gates. "Esposito and Ryan briefed me on what happened yesterday. Let me know if you need some time. And I wanted to let you know that Las Vegas PD caught the guy making the phone calls. We're looking at extraditing him to NY, so we'll need to take your statement at some point."

"Thank you, Captain." Beckett thought a moment. "Yes, I'd like to take a personal day today."

# # # # # # # #

"Castle! Richard Castle!" boomed the voice, making Castle start from his dosing state.

He stood slowly, trying to return circulation to his limbs. "Yes," he said, clearing his throat slightly. He shuffled to the front of the cell, his back now killing him from slumping over at an odd angle.

"The judge is ready," said the officer. "Step outside and place your hands in front of you."

Castle frowned slightly but did as the man instructed, quickly finding himself in handcuffs.

The officer walked him into the courtroom and sat him down on a bench near the front.

They didn't pass any windows, so he couldn't tell what time it was, but it must be early from the smell of the coffee in the air. He quietly sniffed at the scent and found his mouth almost watering – it had been so long since he had had some.

Several more defendants were brought in and placed in the holding area.

After about 30 minutes, the door to the judge's chamber opened and a petite woman walked out, dressed in a judge's robe. She quickly went over the arraignment listing, casting glances towards the defendants as she did.

After a few minutes, the first defendant was called. He pleaded guilty to DWI and bond was set $5,000.

The second defendant was called, a woman of the night this time, quickly charged and bond again set.

The rest of the defendants were all arraigned in short order, the judge throwing looks Castle's way during the hearings, making him squirm.

The old, playboy Richard Castle would have been throwing looks back at the judge – it wouldn't have been the first time. But he wasn't that man anymore.

His name was finally called and he walked up to where the officer indicated for him to stand.

The judge read the report, looked at him for several moments, and then went back to reading the report again before looking at him.

"So, Mr. Richard Castle, and we've confirmed who you are by your fingerprints," she finally said. "It says here that you've been arrested for burglary. It also says that you've been missing for 3-1/2 months."

Castle almost sighed with relief. Here was finally someone who would listen to him. "Yes – I was supposed to get married and there was a wreck when I was driving to my house. I got out to get their information and then I woke up in this beige room…" He trailed off as he realized how lame it sounded, even though it was the truth.

"Uh, huh," said the judge. "So you were kidnapped on the way to your wedding," she reiterated.

Castle nodded.

"And then what happened?" the judge asked.

"I woke up in this room out in the desert," he replied.

"And what happened then?"

"Nothing much," said Castle, making a slight face. "Except these things kept happening – the lights would go out, the ventilation system would need to be reset…" he trailed off again as the judge studied him.

She squinted at him. "So they were running experiments on you?" she asked.

Castle shrugged. "I guess so," he said simply.

"And how did you get out of this room?" the judge asked.

"The door just opened," Castle said. "So I left – I walked in the desert for a couple of days and found the gas station and called the police for help."

"Kind of like the Israelites," the judge commented.

"Except it was only 2 days, not 40," replied Castle and then shut his mouth at her look.

The judge looked at the report and then back at him. "So you were kidnapped on the way to your wedding, woke up in a room some place where they experimented on you, and then left when the door opened. Tell me, Mr. Castle," she said leaning forward. "Were they little green men or little gray men?"

Castle frowned. This was definitely not going well. "I actually never saw anyone," he said simply.

"Uh, huh," the judge nodded, scribbling something on the piece of paper in front of her.

"Look," Castle said suddenly, "my fiancé can vouch for me."

The judge frowned at him. "And your fiancé would be…?"

"Detective Katherine Beckett," Castle said with a slight smile. "NYPD homicide 12th precinct. She's the first person I called when I found a working phone."

"Uh, huh," said the judge, nodding slightly. "And you spoke with her personally?"

"Uh, no," said Castle. "She didn't pick up, so I left a message on her voice mail."

"Well, we haven't heard from her. Is there anyone else who can vouch for you?" asked the judge.

"Yes, Captain Gates, NYPD 12th," Castle replied.

"Uh, huh," said the judge. "As it happens, Captain Gates and I had a long talk a little while ago – you mentioned her name when you were arrested last night and I thought it was pertinent to get her input in this case. I want to repeat her message verbatim to you." She looked down at the paper in front of her. "And I quote: 'I don't know what sick game you're playing, but it will be a cold day in hell before I let anyone treat one of my detectives this way. If you should ever try to contact her again or anyone here at the 12th, I will make it my personal mission to have you locked away for the rest of your life.'"

She looked up at Castle who stood there, a shocked and devastated look etched on his face.

"That can't be right," he said finally. "Why would she say that?"

"That is exactly what she said," the judge replied. She leaned forward again. "Mr. Castle, I don't care if you are a celebrity in New York, but they're a dime a dozen here in Las Vegas, and we take things very seriously. How do you plead to the charge of burglary?"

Castle swallowed thickly. Technically he was guilty but he had an excellent reason that just sounded insane.

"Mr. Castle?" the judge prompted.

"Not guilty," Castle said finally.

"Trial by judge or jury?" the judge asked.

"Jury," he said.

"Bail is set at $10,000. Please see the bailiff to set a trial date. And Mr. Castle, burglary is a felony offense here in Nevada," said the judge.

Castle nodded and walked over to the bailiff.

"You get one phone call," the man said. "Make it count."

# # # # # # # #

Castle took the phone and called a number he knew by heart and knew that it would be picked up.

"Paula, it's me, Rick," he said when his book agent answered the phone. He held the phone away from his ear at the squeal that was unleashed.

The bailiff looked over at him and frowned.

"Rick, is that really you?!" Paula asked hopefully.

"Yeah, yeah – it's me," Castle replied.

"Where have you been?!" Paula asked.

"It's a long story," he replied, "but I need your help." He took a deep breath. "I need you to bail me out."

"Oh, Rick, what have you done now?" Paula asked rhetorically.

Castle shook his head. "It's a long story and I'd rather not discuss it now."

The bailiff made a wrap-it-up motion with his hand.

"Listen, I'm in jail in Las Vegas and they set the bail at $10,000," Castle said.

"I've got this," said Paula. "Just sit tight."

"Thanks, Paula – I owe you," Castle replied.

"Rick, is there anyone you want me to call?" Paula asked.

"No – I'll call them once I get out. Thanks," said Castle.

He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. This certainly wasn't the phone call he had expected to make all those long months when he was locked away.

# # # # # # # #

Paula worked her magic and Castle was released on bond in an hour.

He picked up the baggy containing the 2 cell phones and walked out of the jail, wondering where he was supposed to go now and then stopped.

Yes, Paula had worked her magic, but apparently it was some sort of tainted magic as he looked at the man in the golfing pants standing in front of the black 2015 Jaguar XK.

This day had just gone from bad to worse, he thought, if one of the senior partners of Black Pawn had to come bail him out.

The man standing in front of the car stared at him as he walked up. "Castle? I'll be damned – you look like crap. You know, this whole Grizzly Adams homeless vibe – not really feeling it."

"Good to see you too, Andre," Castle replied as the man hugged him. "You know, you didn't have to come – you could have just posted bond online."

Andre shrugged. "Already in the area for a publishers' conference. Get in – I've rented a hotel room as far from the main strip as possible."

"Thanks," said Castle as he climbed into the passenger's seat. He was quiet for a moment before he looked at Andre. "So how bad was it?"

Andre pulled out into traffic. "Let's just say that the paparazzi were like vultures – always circling, look for a meal."

Castle nodded. "Yeah, I've had some experience with that. And mother and Alexis – how are they?"

"They'll be doing better now that you're back." Andre took a sideways glance at him. "So what happened, Rick? Where have you been? On some sort of walkabout?"

Castle shook his head. "I really don't know what happened, Andre – one moment I'm driving to my wedding and then the next, waking up out here."

"You've been gone 3-1/2 months," Andre commented. "Maybe I should take you to a hospital?"

Castle shook his head. "I'm okay. I just want to talk to my family and shower, and probably in that order."

"Good idea," said Andre as he pulled into a hotel parking lot and parked the car at the back. "You're in 157." He pulled a baseball hat from under the seat. "Here – put this on."

Andre turned on the light as they walked into the room. "Paula thought you might need some, so there're clothes in the closet and here," he said, pulling a thick envelope out of his pocket, "she thought you might need this too and the cell phone that's charging over there."

Castle looked at the contents. "Andre, this is too much – you didn't have to do this."

"Rick, you're one of our best authors. When you're in trouble, we help, that's what we do." Andre frowned as he looked at him. "But you'll need to lay low for a little while, try to stay out of the spotlight while we do damage control."

"Yeah," Castle said as Andre walked to the door. Castle pointed at Andre's golf pants. "Sorry about making you miss your tee time."

"No problem – leaves more time for the casino." Andre paused at the door. "And Rick, we'll talk when I get back to New York. But in the meantime, don't do anything stupid, okay?"

"I won't," said Castle. "Scouts honor."

"Call me if you need anything. I've programmed the number in the cell phone."

"Thanks," said Castle as he slipped the 'do not disturb' sign on the door.

He leaned his forehead against the door for a moment and then straightened and walked over to the cell phone and quickly logged into his Skype account. He selected Martha as the contact and waited for the call to complete.

He glanced at the clock. It was 11 am in New York – would her phone be on now? Would she be up by now?

Castle smiled as the call was answered and the screen lit up.

"Hello?" Martha asked, staring at the bearded man looking at her on her phone.

"Hi, mom – it's me – I'm back," Castle said as he closed his eyes and let the tears trail down his cheeks.

"Oh, my god! Richard! Are you okay?" came the response, also laced with tears.

# # # # # # # # #


	12. Chapter 12 Calls

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Less than 2 weeks to go and I saw the sneak peek of the first minute or so of the episode 7X01 – can't wait. Thanks for all the review, favs, and follows.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 12 – Calls**

# # # # # # # #

"Yes, Mom, I'm fine. I'll be back in a few days. Black Pawn is taking care of everything," said Castle, wiping the tears off his face with the heel of his hand. "I just wanted to see you and hear your voice."

"Do you want me to call Alexis?" Martha asked, smiling through her own tears.

"No, I'll call her in a few minutes," Castle said. "After I get rid of this thing that's growing on my face. Andre says it's not a good look for me."

Martha laughed slightly. "He's right, you know."

Castle looked at the screen and teared up again. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, kiddo, and I'm so relieved you're okay," Martha replied. "Have you called Katherine?"

Castle paused, a look of pain flashing across his face for a moment, before he carefully schooled his features. "Uh, yeah, I did, but it didn't go well – we're not together anymore," he said finally.

"Oh, Richard," Martha said sadly. "What happened?"

Castle shook his head. "I don't know." He paused for a moment and then switched the subject, asking, "You've got this phone number, right?"

"Yes, yes, it's in the phone," Martha said.

"Good. Oh, I missed you and Alexis so much," Castle said, closing his eyes.

"I'm going to let you go so you can clean up and then call Alexis. Call me if you need anything," Martha chided gently.

"Okay," said Castle. "I love you, Mom."

"I love you too, Richard. Now I'm going to hang up now," she said.

"Okay," said Castle, sniffing. He stared at the phone as the call ended and swallowed thickly before wiping his face again.

He really did need to do something about this beard before he called Alexis and a shower would probably be good too so that he didn't look like a homeless bum and scare the living bejesus out of her.

He opened the dresser drawers and found underwear, t-shirts, sleep shorts, and socks.

He then moved to the closet and looked at the clothes hanging in it – several pairs of jeans, a couple of blue button-down shirts, and a pair of brown loafers. Paula definitely knew what he liked.

He took the plastic dirty clothes bag out of the closet and carefully peeled off the jumpsuit, pausing as it stuck in several places. As much as he would like to throw it away, it might be useful as evidence in whatever trial he was going to face, he thought as he stuffed it in the bag. And it was concrete evidence that he wasn't crazy, that something had happened to him even if the judge didn't believe him.

He then went into the bathroom, turned on the shower full force, and then turned to the mirror.

His reflection still startled him. No wonder people didn't believe who he was at first and he couldn't blame them now that he could take a good look at himself. The beard was several inches long, looking like a scraggly, ill hamster had latched on to his face. His hair was much longer and now matted with dust from the desert.

Where he didn't have hair on his face, his skin was red, sunburned from being in the desert – well, he couldn't do anything about that.

He turned slightly so he could see the cut along his ribs. Fortunately, it wasn't too deep, but it was red and jagged. He'd need to find some place to take care of it today.

Castle looked around for the toiletries and smiled slighty.

They had even provided everything he liked there also. And fortunately, there were several razors because it was going to take a several to get through this mess.

Castle started to step into the shower and then paused, looking back at the door, having this irrational fear that it would shut and he would be locked in here forever.

He padded back out to the room and picked up the desk chair, using it to prop the door open.

There, that was better, he thought as he stepped into the shower.

He let out a big hedonistic sigh as the hot water streamed down his body. He had waited for this for so long. At least this was going right for him.

# # # # # # # #

It took Martha several minutes to compose herself after the call from her wayward son ended and then several more minutes to formulate a plan of action.

She could hear in his voice how upset he was and decided to wait until he got back to bring up the matter again.

Martha quickly freshened up her makeup as much as she could and then called the precinct to see where Beckett was.

Since the detective was taking a personal day, she was probably at her apartment.

The next call was to the car service.

# # # # # # # #

Moving her jaw back and forth as the feeling started to come back, Agnes Beecham sat down in front of the computer and pulled up the latest call that Detective Beckett had received yesterday night.

She was fortunate that her dentist could work her in for a crown earlier that morning after she had broken a tooth last night when she bit into a pit that was hiding in the cherry pie she had cooked. But she could always say that she broke the tooth sparing, a much more interesting story that just an eating mishap.

Beecham placed the headphones over her ears and turned on the recording, closing her eyes and leaning forward slightly. She tried to focus all of her attention on the sounds in the recordings, rather than on the words, in hopes of narrowing down where the suspect was calling from.

As the message played, she tilted her head slightly. This was different, she thought as the words sank in – different than all the other calls. Could it really be Richard Castle finally calling Beckett?

She brought up the GPS location of the call – just outside of Jean, Nevada – that was different too.

Beecham took the headphones off and quickly dialed the number for their contact in the Las Vegas Metropolitan Police Department.

"Yes, this is Agent Agnes Beecham with the FBI," she said when the call was answered. "I need to speak to Deputy Travor immediately. Thanks, yes, I'll hold."

She drummed her fingers in time to the hold music.

"Hey, Brad," she said when the line was finally answered.

"Agnes, long time, no hear which is really great considering what you do," said Travor. "How can I help you today?"

"I've been working the Richard Castle case," said Beecham without preamble. "About a week after he disappeared, his fiancé started receiving obscene phone calls. We've been tracking those calls and pinpointed the location to Las Vegas."

"Uh – was it Castle calling her?" Travor asked curiously.

"No," answered Agnes. "Based on some time stamps of other videos we have, we've determined that most of them were not made by him."

"Most of them?" asked Travor.

"Yes, she got one yesterday evening that originated near Jean, Nevada, and the message wasn't the same. At the end, the person who made the call said they were going to call 911 for help. So I need you to go through the 911 tapes between 6:00 pm and 8:00 pm yesterday that originated in or near that town and see if a call was made."

"Sure thing – it will take a few minutes. Do you mind if I put you on hold?"

"Not at all," said Beecham. As the music started playing again, she queued up the call and clicked the Play icon. Although it started the same, this message was totally different.

Travor finally came back on the line. "Bingo – a Richard Castle placed a 911 call yesterday evening; he was then picked up and charged with burglary. He was arraigned this morning and Black Pawn posted bail right after that."

"Thanks," said Beecham. "Can you fax me those reports?"

"Sure. Let me know if you need anything else," said Travor.

"Will do. Talk to you later."

Beecham quickly copied the call onto a flash drive and rushed to Branson's office.

"Found him," she crowed triumphantly.

"Who – the stalker?" Branson asked as he looked up from the report he was reading.

"No – Richard Castle," stated Beecham. "He called Beckett last night from Jean, Nevada, and then called 911. I've talked with Travor and Castle was arrested and then bailed out this morning by his publishing company."

"Here, listen to this," Beecham said as she plugged the flash drive into Branson's laptop.

Branson frowned for a moment as he listened and then looked at Beecham. "Yeah, that's different. But how do we know that it wasn't Castle making those calls all along?"

Beecham nodded. "I thought about that and the inattentive Mr. Simms has provided us with evidence," she said as she brought up YouTube on the laptop. "Seems he liked to take unauthorized videos of his test subjects which he would date and timestamp. He used those videos to show us that the isolation tank where Castle was being held was different than the one in Alamogordo."

She typed in 'lab rat in a maze' and had several hits. "I compared the timestamp on the videos to the timestamp on the calls to rule out the possibility it was Castle making those calls. And some of the times in these videos coincide with the times that the calls were made, so it probably was not him."

Branson frowned as he watched one of the videos. It was definitely Castle, probably in the early stages of his confinement, judging by the short, scruffy facial hair. He then queued up another video; this time, Castle's hair was longer.

"Before you call Beckett, call Black Pawn – I want to know exactly where Castle is now."

He looked back at the video, squinting at the screen. "What's he's playing with – a mouse?"

"A kangaroo rat," said Beecham as they watched the rat run through. "And I think he's named it Gates."

Branson's frowned deepened as they heard Castle's voice saying, "That's right – who's the boss of you now?"

That man was going to need some serious counseling after this.

# # # # # # # #


	13. Chapt 13 But It Is Darker When It Storms

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the reviews and comments. They really help me focus on points in the story that I may not have explained well or at all, because sometimes my mind thinks faster than my fingers type and then I forget something because I've moved on to another plot point. Rated high T for swearing.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination and they keep multiplying like rabbits.

**Chapter 13 – But It's Darker When It Storms**

# # # # # # # #

By the time Castle had finished scrubbing all of the dirt off of himself and out of his hair, the water had turned cold. He finally turned off the shower, dried off, wrapped the towel around his waist, and then turned his attention to the beard.

And by the time he was finished with that chore, the trashcan looked like he had sheared a rather large hamster.

He grimaced at his reflection in the mirror as he rubbed the bare skin of his chin. Maybe he was too hasty and should have left a little bit of the beard as camouflage.

He had been wearing sunglasses, so the skin around his eyes was still pale, giving him a reverse raccoon look. Then his skin where the beard had been was a rather pasty white, but the parts of his face that had been exposed to the sun and wind were red and rough, almost making him look like a mime with bright red cheeks and a Rudolph the reindeer nose.

For a moment, Castle considered picking up some concealer before calling Alexis and then decided against it.

The cut on his ribs had started slightly bleeding again, so he stuck some tissue against it, hoping that would do the trick until he could get it looked at.

He shrugged on underwear, a dark t-shirt, and a pair of jeans, before pulling on socks and putting on the loafers.

When he finally thought that he was presentable enough, he thumbed on the phone and dialed Alexis' Skype account. She didn't answer, so he recorded a quick video message to let her know that he was okay and would be home soon, and sent it to her.

Castle looked around the room, wondering what to do next. When he had all that unwanted time with literally nothing to do except entertain a rat and write 'I heart Kate' in jelly, he had made elaborate plans of what he would do once he was free.

And now that he was, he couldn't think of any of them.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and took a deep breath, trying to focus. He should come up with a plan of action, he thought as his phone beeped.

He reached for it, thinking it might be Alexis calling him back, but it was only a text from Andre saying that he would be flying back to New York in two days if Castle wanted to fly back with him.

Castle thought for a moment. Black Pawn had given him enough money to charter a small jet if he wanted to, but the thought of sitting in a small cage for that long sent chills up his spine, which was something totally foreign to him. Maybe the commercial flight would be better – the cage would be a little bigger.

But the more he thought about it, the faster his heart pounded and the rate of his breathing increased, the palms of his hands starting to sweat. He felt the walls of the room closing in on him as the AC clicked off, sucking all of the air out of the room, a tight band gripping his chest.

Castle propelled himself off the bed, blindly reaching for the envelope of money and the room key with hands shaking so hard that he could barely hold on to the items as he stuffed them into his pockets. He then rushed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

He stood with his back against the closed door, trembling, trying to control his breathing, a hand splayed tightly against his chest. Slowly, the symptoms faded as he concentrated on the wide open area in front of him and he felt like he could breathe again.

Damn, he thought as he stood there. He had forgotten the baseball hat that Andre had given him (not that he wanted to put it back on after it had touched his filthy hair) and the phone. But as hard as he tried, he could not bring himself to open the door and go back in the room at this point.

He looked out again and took a deep breath. Well, it seemed like he had no choice but to start interacting with the world again whether or not he was ready for it.

He walked to the front of the building and inquired about what was around the hotel and public transportation. He suddenly felt like being surrounded by people.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett was still exhausted from yesterday's quick trip and her morning crying jag, but her mind wouldn't let her rest. It was in a whirlwind, thinking of all the possibilities, of all things they could have overlooked, in their search for Castle.

She finally decided to go for a run since the weather was slightly cooler now, hoping that it would relax her enough so she could sleep.

When she opened the door, she was startled to find Martha there about to knock on it.

"Martha," she said in surprise and gulped slightly.

"Oh, Katherine, dear," said Martha, taking in her red-rimmed eyes. "What did that big brute of my son say to you?" she asked dramatically, gathering the detective into her arms.

Beckett relaxed into the hug and then pulled back slightly. "Martha, have you heard from Rick?" she asked quickly.

"Yes, dear – about an hour ago. He called to say that he was fine. When I asked if he called you, he said he did, but that it didn't go well and he didn't want to talk about it," Martha responded questioningly.

Beckett shook her head. "No, no – I haven't heard from him." Unless…her mind automatically added thinking back to the call she had gotten the previous night.

She whirled for her phone and then cursed slightly at having erased the message. She quickly dialed Beecham's number and waited for her to pick up.

Beckett frowned as she heard the double ring and then looked down the hallway to see Branson and Beecham walking towards her.

"Have you found him?" was her first anxious question to the pair. "Was the call last night from him?"

Branson and Beecham both nodded in confirmation. "Yes," said Agnes.

"And?" Beckett demanded as they walked into her apartment and shut the door.

"He was picked up in Jean, Nevada last night on a charge of burglary and arraigned this morning. Black Pawn posted bail shortly after that and he was released on his own recognizance," said Branson.

Beckett sank down on the couch. "I should have listened to all of that call," she moaned. "I should be out there for him."

Beecham sat down next to her. "No, dear – you couldn't have known it was him calling. It started out like all the other calls."

"No," Beckett said, shaking her head, tears in her eyes. "I didn't do my job—"

"It isn't your job, Katherine; it's mine," Beecham stated emphatically.

Beckett nodded though she wasn't convinced. "Where is he now?" she asked, looking at Branson expectantly.

"Andre from Black Pawn has put him up in a hotel in Las Vegas, and we were able to locate his position based on the call he made to his mother a little while ago. We called the number, but there was no answer, so we've got a team en route to pick him up," Branson responded. "We've also tried to reach Andre, but apparently he's in a high-stakes poker game where they don't allow phones or interruptions."

"Oh, oh," Martha said suddenly, digging through her purse. "The number is in the call log. You can call him now, Katherine."

She flipped open her phone and pressed a couple of buttons to bring up the call log. "There – that one," she said, handing the phone to Beckett and pointing to a number. "That's the one he called from."

Beckett nodded, smiling, as she pressed a button and walked into her kitchen. She held her breath as the phone rang and then frowned slightly when it went to voice mail. "Rick, it's me. I'm so sorry; please call me. I've missed you so much, babe. Call me."

She hung up the phone and brought her hand up to her face to wipe away a tear that had fallen.

"No answer," said Branson as he walked into the kitchen.

Beckett shook her head. "No."

He glanced over at Martha and Agnes talking.

"We have another problem," said Branson in a low voice. "When we were going through Neidmyer's emails, we found out that he put out a contract on Castle in case his plan didn't work."

Beckett's eyes widened in shock.

"Hence the team going to pick him up. We'll put him in protective custody until we find the person," Branson reassured her.

Beckett nodded. "Let me know what I need to do."

"When he calls back, tell him to stay put – that we'll have someone there as soon as possible," Branson said.

"Okay," replied Beckett.

# # # # # # # #

Castle was feeling more in control, but not necessarily better, as he walked back to the hotel he was staying at, now that he was reintegrating into society after his unwanted exile.

The nurse at the urgent care room had seen him rather quickly, applied a generous amount of antibiotic ointment to the cut, and taped it up. She asked when his last tetanus shot was and, since he couldn't remember, gave him one just to be on the safe side. She gave him some cream for his face also and reminded him to always wear a hat when outside.

The doctor prescribed a round of antibiotics and laughed at his vulture story that he changed ever so slightly – his car had broken down a couple of miles out of town and he got tired at one point while walking back and laid down to rest and the vulture had mistaken him for something dead – which he truthfully almost was at the time, even though he didn't want to admit it.

The next stop had been to barber shop that also gave manicures for a much needed grooming session. While there, he bought one of the John Deere hats on a rack and a pair of sunglasses.

The next stop had been a more sobering one – while riding the bus, he spotted a library and hopped off to find out what had happened in his absence. What he read put him in a somber mood. The tabloids had not been nice about his disappearance. The New York Times even ran a photograph of the anguished fiancé looking at his burning car on the first page of the social section and its comments were just as unflattering – the groom got cold feet and burned a path getting out of town, not a mystery why the mystery writer disappeared. No wonder Kate hadn't called back – she had finally realized how different their worlds truly were and decided to cut her losses. Not that he could blame her as he thought of ways to sue the tabloids and papers, assuming that anyone would believe his story.

Castle paused in his ruminations as he reached the back of the building and noticed 2 black cars parked there with government plates, obviously waiting for someone – for him by the look of it.

He carefully stepped back, watching the scene, as 2 men came out of his room, carrying plastic bags that contained the items that were in the room, and walked to the cars to put the bags in the trunk. One of them was holding the phone that Andre had left him.

And that made him mad, furious in fact – as mad as he had been when he had woken up in that god-forsaken place and beat on the door for hours to no avail, bruising his hands in the process.

He had been taken captive on what should have been the best day of his life, and then held in an isolated cage by some unknown entity until he finally escaped his id told him (really let go, his super-ego commented in reply). Then when he had gotten out, survived his walk in the desert, he had been arrested and put in another cage, waiting for someone else to pronounce judgment on him, controlling his life.

He'd be damned if he let this happen to himself again. Just the thought of being locked in an interrogation room for hours as he repeated the same story caused his heart to race and his palms to sweat.

If anyone wanted to talk to him, he decided, they could do it through his lawyer. And all he wanted to do now was to get home to his family, lick his wounds in private and rebuild his life post-Kate. He certainly wasn't the same optimistic fool he had been 4 months ago.

Castle turned and walked back to the front of the building, carefully watching as he went to make sure no other federal agents were around.

He paused at the front desk for a moment.

"I'd like to leave a note for the man who rented room 157," he said to the concierge.

"Of course," replied the woman.

He quickly scribbled the note on the pad of paper and then folded it in half and gave it to the clerk.

"Thanks," Castle said.

"Have a good day," the woman replied.

Castle walked out the front of the building and caught the next city bus that stopped in front of the hotel.

# # # # # # # #


	14. Chapter 14 Best Laid Plans

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Glad you are enjoying the story and thanks for the reviews. Hmmm, I think I've written several versions of this story before, but then again, if you throw out a theory enough times, you're bound to be right some of the times. And I've been reading the spoilers, but there are no spoilers in this story – just my imagination. Rated high T for swearing.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 14 – Best Laid Plans**

# # # # # # # #

Quickly formulating his get-away plan, Castle decided the first thing he needed was a valid ID. He knew his driver's license number by heart so it wouldn't be hard to replace it online. Not having a picture on it could be problematic, but he'd deal with that if or when he had to. He could just cut a picture from one of the tabloids, he thought sarcastically.

But he needed a way to renew it online and the easiest way was to buy a smart phone and use that, so his first stop was at WalMart. He picked up the essentials – a couple of prepaid Visa cards, a backpack, a rolling suitcase, several burner smart phones, toiletries, clothes, and snacks.

Next, after the phones were activated, he sat down in a back table at a nearby coffee shop and set up his mobile hotspot. He opened a browser and quickly set up a throw-away email account and then pulled up the NY DMV site.

If someone was truly looking for him, this would probably cause all sorts of bells and alarms to go off but he didn't have time to get a counterfeit ID and he really didn't want to get into more trouble than he already was.

He entered his information, got the reply email, and then took the battery out of the phone and dumped both items in the trash as he walked out of the shop.

The next stop was to an office supply company several miles away from the coffee shop, where he used their business center to print out the paperwork for the replaced license. He quickly removed the battery from that phone and dumped both into the garbage can outside the business.

Now to find a way to get out of Dodge quickly…

He stopped in front of a travel bureau and stared at the posters through the window, but the thought of getting on a plane in an enclosed space still made him queasy. He now knew what Beckett was talking about when she made the comment about her mother's killer and not wanting to watch the killer get a light sentence – hopefully that wouldn't happen now that Bracken was behind bars.

He frowned slightly – he just had to accept it would be a while before everything he referenced wouldn't have Beckett's name associated with it.

The bus, maybe, he thought. But that was another enclosed space with someone else in control and that made his stomach hurt too.

He stared at the posters for a minute more and then focused on what was reflected in the window. A yellow Jeep Wrangler with a removable hard top sat in the dealer's lot across the street. Yeah, that would definitely work, he thought nodding to himself.

He watched the lot for a minute, picking out the salesperson he wanted to work with, and then crossed the street.

The deal was quickly sealed and the papers submitted for a new car for his son, Tony Rhodes – when he and his mom were divorced, she started using her maiden name again and changed her son's name. But, after all, it was his son's 18th birthday and he had a lucky streak at the casinos.

He thought about calling his mother and letting her know his plans, but he assumed that if the FBI looking for him, they would be monitoring her phone calls. He would just surprise her in a couple of days.

Now to find another place to stay for the evening and a decent restaurant…

The desk clerk was very understanding when he told her who he was but that he was staying incognito. His first instinct was to use a character name, but knew that would be a dead giveaway, so he chose a name at random and asked for a wake-up call at 6 am and the name of a good restaurant in the area.

It seemed like he had eaten nothing but cardboard for the last several months even though he wasn't very funny at this point.

Later, when he was settled into the room, he flipped on the TV and thumbed through the channels, looking for the movies he had missed during his confinement.

# # # # # # # #

The FBI finally rousted Andre from his card game under protest and escorted him to the hotel where Castle has been staying. The two agents stationed by the room shook their heads – they hadn't seen Mr. Castle at all.

Andre and one of the agents walked to the front desk to see if they had seen him, but all they had was a note from him.

"Andre – Thanks for everything; I really appreciate it. My lawyer will be in touch. RC."

The agent immediately called Branson to let them know that Castle was gone again, probably heading back to New York on his own.

Branson had the TSA run a check on all of the flights out of Las Vegas for the next couple of days to see if Castle was one of the passengers, but they came up empty. He wasn't registered at any hotel in or near Las Vegas either.

They did get one hit when he replaced his driver's license online but the only location that the IP address gave them was Las Vegas.

"Damn," said Branson as he ended the call and looked at Beckett. "Apparently your fiancé doesn't want to be found and has gone off grid. I hate to ask this, but do you have any idea why?"

Beckett shook her head and told the truth even though it hurt. "No, I don't."

She glanced over at Martha who looked at her anxiously.

"Well, until we get a hit on his whereabouts, there's nothing else we can do," Branson said grimly. He didn't had to add that it didn't look good.

# # # # # # # #

Holding a Styrofoam cup of day old coffee that was probably dissolving the container, the older man walked into a small room filled with computer monitors.

A younger man sitting in front of the control panel turned slightly and nodded, holding out a $100 bill to the older man. "You win. The FBI spooked him, so he's on the run."

"Idiots," the man growled, smiling slightly. "It's a wonder we're still a free nation."

"Matter of opinion," said the younger man turning back to the monitors.

"Says the man who monitors the monitors," the older man said. "Do you have eyes on?"

The younger man glanced up at a monitor and nodded again. "He's still in Las Vegas – he replaced his driver's license and bought a Jeep Wrangler, so he must be planning on driving back to New York."

The older man nodded. "Thanks," he said, pocketing the money.

"You know you can't interfere," said the younger man. "They can't know that we know."

The older man shrugged. "Yeah, I've been told that several times."

He walked out of the room and got into a non-descript car.

After he had driven several miles, he stopped at a gas station, pulled out a secure phone, and dialed a number.

"I've got a job for you," he said simply.

"So are you interfering?" came the reply.

"Not interfering with them, just with Neidmyer," the man said. "And he's dead now, so he can't protest."

"Just a matter of semantics."

"Richard is planning on driving from Las Vegas to New York. That leaves him too exposed, so I need an intercept and a redirect."

There was a sigh over the line. "I'll get right on it. I can be there tomorrow afternoon."

"Thanks. And I owe you," the older man said.

There was another pause. "Why now? You've known about this for months – you could have stopped it at any time. Picked him up before the wedding or in the desert even."

"That would have tipped our hand," the man said. "When Simms sent that letter, the FBI got involved. They've scrubbed Neidmyer's computer by now and found those emails. So if this goes south, they get the blame."

"Oh, good," came the reply. "I thought you had gone soft."

The man chuckled dryly. "Not a chance."

He hung up and sat in the car for a minute, watching the rain.

He had inadvertently gotten his son into this mess and it was his fatherly duty to get him out of it now.

# # # # # # # #

Castle was showered and dressed before the wake-up call came, anxious to get on the road. He looked at the map one more time before quickly packing his meager belongings into the suitcase.

He took a swallow of the coffee he had made in the room and grimaced, pouring the rest of it down the sink. Yeah, he definitely needed to stop and get a real coffee before leaving town.

He stopped by the front desk and checked out, leaving a generous tip for the desk clerk, and asked for the best coffee shop around.

She directed him to a little shop about a mile down the road.

# # # # # # # #

There were a few cars in the parking lot when Castle pulled in, but the smell surrounding the coffee shop was heavenly, making his mouth water. His stomach growled in response and he smiled slightly. One for here and one for the road with a muffin on the side would definitely fit the bill.

This is one of the things he missed so much, in addition to other things he shouldn't be thinking about now.

The door jangled as he opened it and walked in, taking in a deep breath. It was a little Mom and Pop shop, rather than a chain, and they offered a surprising wide variety of blends and handmade treats.

The cute barista behind the counter took his order and, in a few quick minutes, he was sitting at a table savoring the warmth of the coffee and the taste of the muffin.

He quickly finished both and then walked back up to the counter to place his order to go and paid for it.

He lounged against the counter and then picked up his order and turned to go…only to run into the woman standing behind him, adorning her shirt with his morning blend as his cup splattered to the floor.

"Oh, I am so sorry," Castle said, eyes wide, wondering if he should help her dry off.

The woman put up one hand as she blotted at the stain with some napkins. "No, no, I'm the clumsy one – I was texting and not paying at attention. It's entirely my fault. Listen, let me buy you another one..."

She knelt down and picked his cup up off the floor and then stood. "…George Clooney," she said, reading the name on the cup and looked at him with a puzzled expression.

"Definitely not the actor," Castle said quickly with a slight smile. That was a trick of his to remain anonymous in the coffee shops back home – give the name of someone famous and then when that name was called, everyone would look to see who it was and then go back to whatever they were doing when they realized it wasn't the same person.

"Well, George Clooney, not the actor, I'm Adele, not the singer," she said sticking out her hand.

They moved out of the way as a busboy came out to clean up the spill.

"Look, I should buy you coffee for ruining your blouse," Castle said.

"Okay, then I accept," said Adele not the singer.

They placed their orders and then stepped back.

Adele looked at Castle questioningly. "You know, you do look like someone I've heard about…" she said, squinting slightly at him in thought.

Castle shrugged. "Probably Jason Bateman. I get that a lot."

Adele shook her head. "No – no, it'll come to me. So what brings you to lovely Las Vegas?"

"Just passing through," Castle said. "And you?"

In the old days, before Beckett, he would have copped to who he was and they would have shared more than coffee. But he wasn't that man anymore and he wasn't sure that he wanted to be that man anymore.

However, her next words clenched his resolve.

"I'm a celebrity wedding and divorce blogger, and I heard that there were several celebs in town tying the knot. I'm hoping to get a couple of pictures," Adele said brightly.

"Wow – a celebrity wedding and divorce blogger," repeated Castle, nodding his head and then shaking it slightly. "I didn't know there was such a thing."

"Yes, the wonders of the internet," said Adele. "It's amazing the types of jobs it has opened up." She looked at him. "And you, Mr. Clooney?"

Castle frowned slightly again. "I'm in between jobs right now, exploring my options."

"Ah," said Adele, snapping her fingers. "I know who you remind me of – that mystery writer who skipped out on his wedding to his muse, that New York detective."

"Really?" asked Castle quietly.

"Just a little – around the eyes – but the hair is different and the face…eh…" Adele made a slight face with a small shrug.

Castle shrugged back. "Can't win them all. Say, being a wedding and divorce blogger, what did you hear about that? I was out of the country then – apparently missed all the excitement."

"Are you a fan?" Adele asked.

"Was a fan of the genre," Castle replied. "So?" he prompted.

"Just what all the tabloids said – he got cold feet, he was abducted by aliens, one of his ex-wives did it, her ex-husband did it," Adele said as she picked up her coffee and then turned and looked at him conspiratorially and said in a quiet voice. "But here's what I found out yesterday – the fiancé had taken out a $2 million life insurance policy on him the day after their engagement was announced and she contacted a hit man to take him out so she could collect the money. Seems there was a prenup in place and she wouldn't inherit a dime if anything happened to him. They're arresting her tomorrow for his murder."

Although his pulse was racing, Castle kept his face carefully neutral. "Really – how did you find out?"

"A friend of mine in the NY DA's office," she said. "Remember – divorce blogger – sometimes it can be a bit of true crime also."

Castle nodded, frowning slightly. "Okay, thanks." He paused for a moment before looking at her. "Well, Adele not the singer, it was nice to meet you."

"And it was nice to meet you too, George Clooney, not the actor," she said as they shook hands.

Castle grabbed his coffee and to-go order and quickly walked out of the coffee shop.

They might not be together any more, but he would be damned if he let anything happen to Beckett because of this.

He quickly made up his mind and drove to the airport.

# # # # # # # #

Adele not the singer watched Castle leave and then discreetly followed him to the airport, watching him park in long term parking and catch a transit to the main terminal.

She pulled out her phone and dialed a number. "He's on his way to you."

# # # # # # # #


	15. Chapter 15 The Return Home

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Glad you are enjoying the story and thanks for the reviews. Less than a week to go! Yeah! And yes, you can actually fly without having a valid ID on you. It's up to the discretion of the airline if you can prove your identity – makes you feel really safe, doesn't it?

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 15 – The Return Home**

# # # # # # # #

After buying his airline ticket, Castle bought tickets on the bus to different locations at various times, trying to confuse anyone tracking him. He knew that once he boarded the flight to New York, the TSA would have that information but hoped his subterfuge would give him enough time to get back home without any interference.

He then stopped at one of the stores on the concourse to pick up a few items that he would need when he disembarked to get past cameras or anyone watching for him. He quickly stuffed them into his backpack and walked to the security checkpoint, praying they would let him board without any problems.

After a quick explanation that he had had such a good time in Vegas that he really couldn't remember where he left his wallet, Castle pulled out the replacement driver's license paper and looked hopefully at the TSA workers.

They looked at him for a long minute and then took him into a side room for a pat-down and physically checked his bags. They finally decided that he was just another person who really had had too much of a good time in Sin City and not a threat and let him through.

The next stop was to pick up his boarding pass when the flight was announced. Castle paused slightly as he walked down the walk away to board the plane.

He put his bag in the overhead bin, and then sat down in his aisle seat and fastened his seat belt before the sign came on, taking a deep breath as they closed the door.

"First time flying?" asked the grandmother sitting next to him and patting his hand as it gripped the armrest. "Honey, it'll be okay – safest way to travel."

"Thanks," said Castle, smiling slightly and nodding at her.

They took off without delay and Castle tried to relax in his seat.

Economy was totally different than first class but he was trying to fly under the radar and it was just for a couple of hours he reasoned.

He reclined the seat slightly and closed his eyes, carefully breathing in and out in an attempt to control his heart rate and breathing as it increased at being in an enclosed space and not in control. He wondered if he was going to have this problem the rest of his life.

# # # # # # # #

_The FBI agents walked into Captain Gates' office and closed the blinds, leaving Beckett, Espo, and Ryan wondering what they were doing here, if they had found a lead in the case. _

_Finally, the door opened and Gates walked out with the 2 men, their faces grim. _

_They then walked to Beckett's desk, one man standing on each side of her._

"_Katherine Houghton Beckett, you are under arrest for the murder of Richard Edgar Castle," one of the men said. "Please stand and place your hands behind your back."_

_Beckett looked at them and then at Gates. "I didn't kill Castle," she said in a shocked voice, shaking her head. _

"_I'm sorry," said Gates. "They've got a warrant for your arrest."_

_Espo and Ryan quickly stood up as the men flashed them warning glances as they handcuffed Beckett and led her out of the room. _

"_Kate!" Espo yelled before the elevator door closed. "We'll find out what happened – we'll clear you."_

_She was booked and taken down to Central Holding where she was quickly recognized._

_A group of mean-looking unforgiving women surrounded her. _

"_Yo, you that detective from the 12__th__? You put away my brother," one taunted her. _

"_You put away my husband," said another. _

"_You put away my sister," said another as they came closer. _

_They pounced on her, raining blows down on her without pity as the guards simply stood by and watched. _

# # # # # # # #

Castle jerked awake, putting a hand to his chest as he heaved in breaths, uncertain as to where he was. He glanced around the plane and then closed his eyes for a moment.

"Bad dream?" asked the grandmother sitting next to him. "Would it help to talk about it?" she asked gently.

Castle shook his head. "No, thanks. Sorry if I disturbed you, ma'am."

"That's okay, honey – you get used to it when you fly a lot. My grandkids live in Las Vegas and I live in New York. I see them several times a year – they grow up so quickly. But I just can't take the heat, so what am I to do?" she asked rhetorically. "Do you have any children?"

"One – a girl, well, a young woman now," Castle said and reached for the phone in his pocket and then stopped – he didn't have any pictures on that phone.

"I'm sure she's beautiful," said the grandmother, pulling a tablet out of her handbag and turning it on. "Here, these are mine."

Castle smile as he scrolled through the pictures at the 3 children doing a variety of activities. "They look great – very active."

"That they are," she replied, smiling. She noticed him looking at the tablet longingly. "Would you like to borrow it? I need to finish the book my friend loaned me before I get back."

"Yeah, if you don't mind," said Castle. "I didn't bring my laptop and need to send a few emails."

"Sure," said the grandmother, handing him the tablet and then pulling the latest James Patterson novel out of her purse.

Castle looked at it out of the corner of his eye and then pulled up a web browser on the tablet.

He needed to contact his lawyer and make arrangements, but the FBI was probably monitoring Henry's phone and email, so he needed to contact someone they wouldn't expect.

Castle thought for a moment and then typed in an email address, hoping the person was online. He smiled when he got a quick response. Missy, a research assistant at Black Pawn, was always on, always connected.

Even though Black Pawn was keeping it quiet, the rumor of his return had spread quickly through the company grapevine, and Missy was more than delighted to help him out.

Castle smiled slightly and quickly typed the email.

After he finished, he handed the laptop back to the grandmother.

"Just let me know if you need it again," she offered with a smile.

# # # # # # # #

Beckett found it impossible to focus at work now that they knew Castle was again missing with a hit man on his tail (information she did not share with Martha and Alexis), so she decided to spend the day at the loft.

She was sitting in the living room, holding the latest Nikki Heat book in her hands, not really reading it, while Martha puttered around the kitchen. Alexis had a make-up test in one of her classes that she needed to complete or get a failing grade, so she said she would join them later.

They were startled by a knock on the door and Martha quickly walked over to answer it.

"Henry," she said, surprised to see Castle's lawyer standing there.

"Ms. Rogers," Henry nodded as he walked in. He looked at Beckett and nodded. "Ms. Beckett."

Beckett stood up and walked up next to Martha as the older woman clutched at her hand.

"What brings you by today?" Martha asked, her concern evident.

"Rick has contacted me and given me a set of instructions to carry out," Henry replied.

"Do you know where he is?" Beckett asked instantaneously.

Henry pursed his lips together for a second before responding in lawyer speak. "That would be part of the attorney-client privilege, so I'm not at liberty to say."

"Henry, I need to speak to Rick immediately," Beckett pleaded. She caught herself before she said it was a matter of life and death.

"I _**am**_ sorry, Ms. Beckett." Henry put his briefcase on the table and pulled out two large manila envelopes. "Is Alexis home?"

"No, she's not," replied Martha.

"This is for you, Ms. Rogers," he said, handing Martha one of the envelopes. "And when Alexis gets home, this is for her," he said, handing her the other envelope.

"What's this?" asked Martha as she opened her envelope and pulled out the papers.

"Rick is deeding over the loft to Alexis," he said, "and the house in the Hamptons to you, Ms. Rogers. All I need it your signatures on the papers and then when I see him, he'll sign them and my office will file them."

"What?!" exclaimed Martha and then she exploded. "No way in hell! This is ridiculous and my pig-headed son is about to make a horrible mistake. I will _**not**_ sign these."

"But…," said Henry with some uncertainty.

"Did he say why he was doing this?" Beckett asked.

"Just that he needed to make some changes in his life and wasn't sure he wanted to stay in New York any longer," Henry responded, grateful for her level-headed interference. "He wants to make sure you and Alexis have a place to live if you should choose to remain here."

"It's still ridiculous," said Martha. "Besides, I can't afford the property taxes on the place."

Henry pulled out some other documents. "Rick has instructed me to set up two trust funds where the dividends will be used to pay for the property taxes as long as you own the property."

Martha shook her head. "My answer is still no and if you would be so kind to tell me how to contact my son, I'll tell him that in no uncertain terms."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Rogers," said Henry firmly, shaking his head. "I can't. However, I will inform Rick of your decisions when he contacts me."

Henry then looked at Beckett somewhat sadly. "When he contacted me, Rick said that you could keep the engagement ring. He doesn't expect it back."

"Now that's utterly ridiculous too," said Martha with a huff.

"Henry," said Beckett, shaking her head. "I assure you that we are still engaged and Rick is wrong. There's been a miscommunication that can be cleared up if I can just talk to him."

Henry frowned at her and then shook her head. "I am truly sorry, Ms. Beckett, but I can't disclose his whereabouts at this time. However, I can pass along your concerns to him when—"

A knock on the door interrupted him.

This time, Beckett walked over and opened the door.

"Agent Branson," she greeted the FBI agent as he walked into the room.

"Detective Beckett," he said. He looked at Martha before looking back at Beckett. "We've just confirmed with the TSA that Mr. Castle is onboard a plane flying back to New York at this time and should be landing at JFK in a couple of hours. We'll intercept him at the airport."

"Is that a good idea?" Martha asked skeptically. "You scared him off in the first place."

"What?" she asked, noticing the quick look that Beckett and Branson shared. "What's going on with my son? You know something," she accused.

Beckett frowned and nodded slightly. "The man who took Rick – he hired a hit man in case his plan didn't work out. That's why the FBI is trying to find him."

Martha paled slightly at that. "Oh my goodness," she said, sinking down onto a dining room chair.

"I assure you that we will find him this time," said Branson.

Beckett fixed Henry with a piercing look. "Now can you tell us what you know?"

The lawyer nodded slightly. "I'm meeting Rick at my office at 7 tonight."

Beckett nodded and looked at Branson. "That's where we'll be in case your plan doesn't work. Martha, I need you to stay here and keep him here if he comes here first. And when Alexis comes home, make her stay also. I'll leave a detail downstairs."

"I will," said Martha in a shaky voice. "And, Katherine, please be careful."

# # # # # # # #

Castle tried to not squirm too much so that he didn't bother the woman sitting next to him, but he realized his mistake now in not picking up a tablet or book for the flight back when he had a chance. He wasn't sure where his mind had been, but obviously not on how to spend 5 hours of uninterrupted boredom, not that he wasn't a master of that already. That just left him with too much time to think, which he usually didn't mind, but now he did.

He listened as the grandmother laughed softly at something her grandson had sent her.

She took her earbuds out and turned to Castle.

"Here," she said, holding the tablet out to him. "This is guaranteed to put a smile on your face. My youngest is a budding scientist and for his school project, he's creating a maze for his pet rat. He found these videos on youtube about rat mazes."

Castle held the ear bud up to his ear as the grandmother started the video.

As he watched the video, he was immediately struck by two competing thoughts – utter vindication that he now had proof of what had happened to him and utter pants-wetting terror at the thought of Captain Iron Gates having watched these. No wonder she had responded the way she did when the judge called after she had read him the riot act when the film crew was filming the documentary and he had embarrassed her. This was a million times worse because now the whole world could see it.

# # # # # # # #

When they were about 45 minutes out from landing, the pilot came on the intercom.

"Ladies and gentlemen, there has been a slight mishap at our scheduled destination JFK. A 747 has lost its landing gear on a runway, so we've been diverted to LaGuardia. We'll be landing shortly and hope this doesn't inconvenience you too much. Please see one of the desk agents for help in arranging transportation to JFK."

The grandmother sitting next to Rick made a face. "Oh, great gumballs, my car is at JFK and now I'll have to stand in line for a couple of hours to get a taxi. I was hoping to get home before dark. I don't see so well at night anymore."

Castle looked at her with a slight smile. "You've helped me out on this flight, so let me help you out now. I have a car service and they'll be glad to take you to JFK – my treat."

"Oh, that is so thoughtful. Thank you," said the grandmother.

"My pleasure," said Castle, smiling genuinely for the first time in months. "If I can borrow your tablet again?"

# # # # # # # #

The plane landed without further delay and Castle quickly put on the 51s baseball hat and sunglasses he had bought at the store in Las Vegas.

If someone was looking for him, they would be looking for a solo traveler, so he escorted the grandmother off of the plane, carrying her bag for her, making sure they carried on an animated conversation so they looked like family.

The car service was waiting for them at the curb and he opened the door for her as she thanked him profusely.

She turned to him before getting in the car and gave him a quick hug. "You know, I like your books too," she whispered. "And I never believed what they said about you. I'm sure everything will be okay."

Castle smiled slightly and returned her hug.

"Have a safe trip home," he said as he closed the door.

He walked over to the second car and gave the driver the address of his lawyer's office.

# # # # # # # #

Shortly before 6:30, after receiving a call that the plane had landed at LaGuardia instead of JFK, Beckett, Espo, and Ryan were sitting in an unmarked car in front of Henry's office. Captain Gates was sitting in another unit at the corner behind them, while an FBI unit was sitting at the other corner in front of them.

They didn't want to be too obvious, but obvious enough in case the hit man was stalking Castle. That might make him think twice about doing anything before Castle could be put in protective custody.

# # # # # # # #

Castle had the driver stop a couple of blocks from Henry's office so that he could get out and recon the area on foot before approaching.

He knew that the TSA had probably alerted the FBI already and had hoped that the airport switch would give him time to get into his lawyer's office without being intercepted.

He entered the coffee shop on the opposite corner from Henry's building from the side door and took a seat near the window where he could observe the area without being seen.

Damn, he thought as he studied the street and saw the 3 unmarked cars. The large sedans really did stick out like a sore thumb.

Henry's building had only one main entrance and a back freight entrance closed to the public so he probably couldn't use that…unless he bribed someone.

He paid for his coffee and then started to leave when he saw Alexis walking down the block from the opposite direction. What was she doing here?

The doors of the car directly in front of Henry's building sprung open and Beckett, Espo, and Ryan hopped out quickly, surrounding Alexis and trying to usher her forcefully into the car.

Castle's temper flared and he angrily pushed the door that fronted Henry's building open.

It was only then that he noticed a black Escalade careening through the traffic light and heading directly towards him.

# # # # # # # #


	16. Chapter 16 Words Can Hurt You

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – Thanks for the reviews, follows, and favs. I'm doing a different fix-it for 'For Better or Worse' in this story than in my other post 6x23 story. Yeah, 5 days to go!

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 16 – Words Can Hurt You**

# # # # # # # #

Time slowed to a crawl as Castle stood stock still like a deer caught in the headlights of the approaching Escalade.

Was his life going to flash in front of his eyes?

Obviously not because the next thing he knew, he was lying on the payment, someone on top of him, holding him down as the SUV whizzed past, crashing into the coffee shop. Glass shards went flying everywhere.

Utter confusion reigned on the street as some people ran away from the scene while other people ran towards the chaos.

He tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down, and then got a good look at the person who had saved his life – this time at least.

The hair was different, but Castle knew those eyes. He knew how they crinkled when she laughed, how they shot death rays when she was furious. And the last time he had seen them was when she was holding a gun to his head, ready to blow his brains out without any hesitation.

"Sophia," he gasped.

"Stay down, Rick," hissed Sophia, planting a knee in his chest as she looked at the steaming SUV.

"But you're dead," he said in disbelief.

"Body armor – at least Danberg didn't take a head shot, but it hurt like hell. Go to the library – you know what to do."

She released the pressure on his chest and stood up, carefully making her way inside the ruins of the coffee shop.

Castle sat there a few more moments, staring at where she had gone, trying to process what had just happened, when he heard familiar voices yelling "Rick!" "Castle!" "Dad!" and then felt a pair of arms lock around his neck.

"Dad!" Alexis screamed in his ear as she held on to him for dear life, crying.

Castle reached up and patted her hair as he continued to watch the SUV, seemingly oblivious to everything else. "I'm okay, Pumpkin."

Suddenly everyone was swarming around him, shouting over each other as they asked him questions, demanding answers, hands reaching for him.

"Rick, are you okay?"

"What happened?"

"Castle, did you see the driver?"

"Do you need help, sir?"

"Are you hurt?"

"He's in shock."

The sirens of the emergency vehicles now competed with the voices, making his ears ring.

The cacophony of noise finally reached into his awareness and pulled him back to reality, and he felt it envelope and start to suffocate him.

"Stop! Everyone just stop talking!" he demanded, throwing up his free hand as if to push them back. "Just! Shut! Up!"

That stopped everyone in their tracks and they all moved back slightly, except for Alexis, who still clung to him tightly.

Castle looked at her and gently stroked her face. "I'm all right, Pumpkin."

"Dad – you're bleeding," she said suddenly as she let go and sat back a little.

"Rick, were you hurt in the crash?" asked Beckett.

Castle looked down at his shirt and then back up with a puzzled expression. "No, a vulture tried to eat me."

Eyes narrowed, he stared at the SUV for a moment longer before the EMTs moved in to examine him.

"Sir, did you hit your head?" one of them asked, pointing his light into Castle's eyes.

Castle batted it away irritably. "No, I'm fine. Just some scrapes and bruises."

"Sir, if you're able, we need to move away from here," said the second paramedic. "The area isn't safe."

"You're right about that," came out of Castle's mouth before he even had a chance to think about it.

"Let us know if you feel any dizziness," said the first paramedic as they helped Castle stand.

"No, I said I'm fine," he said, still staring at the SUV.

"Sir, this way," said one of the EMTs as they walked him over to the back of the waiting ambulance and then sat him down on the gate, Alexis still holding tightly to his hand, not wanting to let him go.

After a few minutes, Espo walked over to where Beckett stood a couple of feet away from the ambulance, watching as the EMTs ran a series of tests on Castle.

"The driver's dead," Espo whispered. "Neck's broken – must have happened when the air bags went off. And we found this," he said, holding out a gym bag to her. "It's got a baseball hat, grey jumpsuit, fake beard, and several burner phones. They're all programmed with your number."

Beckett frowned at the bag and then looked back up at Espo. "Is that the guy?"

"He could be," nodded Espo.

"Thanks," said Beckett.

She looked back as the EMTs were put a new bandage on the cut on his ribs and gave Castle a clean bill of health with the advice to go to the ER if he experienced any sudden headaches in the next couple of days.

"Castle?" Beckett finally asked as the EMTs stepped away. "Rick?" she asked again, not getting a response.

Castle finally looked at her, blinking his eyes several times as if to bring her into focus.

"We need to talk," she said softly.

Ryan walked up apologetically as he interrupted her. "Sorry, but I need to get Castle's statement now."

Beckett nodded, not stepping back.

Ryan frowned apologetically as he pulled out his pad and pen. "Castle, can you tell us what happened?"

"Uh, yeah," said Castle as his brow furrowed in thought. "I was going to see my lawyer and stopped to get a cup of coffee and then this Escalade plows into the coffee shop."

"So you're missing for almost 4 months and the first thing you do is go see your lawyer?" asked Espo.

"Yes," Castle remarked, looking up at the detective. "I had some business to take care of first. I had to update my will – you know – in case I got killed before I got home."

Both Beckett and Ryan shot Espo a look to silence him before he could say anything else.

"And how did you get out of the way?" Ryan continued.

"I jumped at the last moment," said Castle, shrugging. "Uh, the driver was waving his arms so something must have been wrong with the SUV – maybe the brakes went out." He looked at Ryan and shrugged. "Why else would he have driven into a store front?"

"Yeah," commented Ryan as he wrote down what Castle said. Except for Alexis, everyone standing around Castle was well aware of the elephant in the room.

Castle slowly stood up, wincing slightly, feeling slightly worse for the wear, and put his arm around Alexis. "And that's my statement, Detective. It's been a while since I've seen my family, so I'm going home now."

After listening to Castle's statement, Gates moved closer. "Are you sure that's what happened, Mr. Castle?" she asked, not quite believing him.

Castle nodded at her. "Yes, I'm absolutely sure that's what happened, Captain. So unless you're charging me with something, I'm done here. And if you want anything else, talk to my lawyer. His office is right over there." He said, pointing at the building.

Not waiting to hear her response, Castle walked off with Alexis tucked under his arm to find an uncongested part of the street and a taxi.

"Mr. Castle!" said Gates in exasperation and then turned to look at Beckett.

"I've got this," said Beckett, nodding.

Her preference was to take her cruiser, but it was blocked in by the emergency vehicles, so she followed them on foot.

Beckett watched them get into a taxi, and then hailed another one and flashed her badge at the driver.

"Follow that cab," she said as she got in.

# # # # # # # #

When Castle got into the taxi, he gave the driver the address of the public library and then looked at Alexis.

"Pumpkin, I need to make a stop but I want you to go straight home and wait for me there. I won't be long."

"But, Dad," she protested, "someone just tried to run you over."

"Your grandfather left something for me there and I need to pick it up," he explained. "And I meant what I said back there – it was just an accident."

Alexis pouted slightly but nodded at him. "Okay, but call if you're going to be late," she reprimanded him.

"I love you, Pumpkin," Castle said as the taxi stopped at the library and he gave her a quick hug before getting out.

"I love you too," Alexis said back.

# # # # # # # #

Castle quickly went to the stacks. He knew where to look by heart since this was one of his favorite sections of the library, one of the places he had spent the most time as a kid, fantasizing about life.

He carefully searched the shelves but didn't find the book that he was looking for.

Had he been mistaken? But no, his father wouldn't risk putting the book back on the shelf and someone else getting it first.

His next stop was the reservation desk.

"Do you have anything reserved for Richard Castle?" he asked the attendant.

"Let me check," she replied. She came back in a few minutes with a copy of Casino Royale in her hands. "Yes, this book was reserved for you a short time ago. Do you have your library card, sir?"

Castle pulled out the sheet of paper for his replacement driver's license. "Will this do? I lost my wallet recently and the DMV hasn't sent me a replacement yet."

"Sure," said the woman, quickly checking out the book to him. "It's due back in 2 weeks."

"Thanks," said Castle as he took the book.

He looked around, wondering where to go, and then went to the place that seemed the most logical – the basement where he had last seen his father.

He sat down on the floor close to where the body had been and then flipped through the book, frowning when he didn't find anything. Had he misunderstood Turner?

He then examined the book carefully. This particular version was a hardback and the inside back cover seemed thicker than the front cover.

Castle looked around for something to open the back cover with and found a box cutter. He carefully peeled off the inside back cover and pulled out a sheet of paper that had been folded to fit the pocket and a picture.

He looked at the picture and then took a deep breath before unfolding the letter and reading it.

_Richard:_

_Yes, she's one of mine – in fact, they both are. _

_I flipped Turner years ago and she was working for me during the Blakely case. She was after the consortium that hired him and had gotten very close, so close that they trusted her to pull off their plan. But she never found out the identities of the main group behind the plan. _

_Then you and Beckett showed up and shot the operation to hell. But you did save the world. I didn't know whether to be mad or proud._

_I had to pull her after that since her cover was blown. You can't bring a dead person back in real life. _

_Do you remember William Hanner? He found them when you were shadowing the agency but we didn't know it at the time. And his death wasn't accidental. _

_We've been searching for them since then and have gotten occasional hits, which is how we discovered Jason Niedmyer's plan. I'm sure you remember him. _

_We couldn't take the risk of blowing the operation again so we couldn't interfere. They would have known that we were monitoring them and gone to ground. _

_Because he thought you ruined his life, Neidmyer wanted to ruin your life. After he had everything in place, he hired someone to set fire to your wedding venue so there was a better chance you'd be alone that day. _

_Everything else that happened was just coincidental but played into his plan. _

_Beckett's marriage to Rogan O'Leary was real, but Bracken took care of hiding that. He's been watching them since her mother got too close to the truth. They were a threat to his perfect dream, so when he found out about the marriage, he had someone on his payroll cover it up to use against her later. When he was arrested, they scattered like the wind and the safeguards weren't in place anymore so it showed up in the records. _

_When Beckett convinced the FBI that you hadn't run away, that you were really kidnapped, the consortium decided that Niedmyer was too much of a liability and ended his experiment and him. They didn't want you dying some place that could be traced back to them, so they are the ones who let you go. _

_It would have been more convenient if you died in the desert, but if by some miracle you made it out, they wanted to make sure that you'd be isolated and wouldn't trust anymore, so they planted seeds of doubt in both you and your friends. _

_That's what they do – they manipulate. They don't necessarily want to rule the world; they just want to make a profit, so they tweak things in their favor. _

_So they did things to ensure that your friends wouldn't trust you and you wouldn't trust your friends. _

_One thing we could take care of was the hit man that Niedmyer hired because it would look like the FBI "discovered" it. If anything had gone wrong, they would have gotten the blame. _

_Son, what happened to you wasn't fair, but life rarely is. And I'm going to have to ask you to play spy again. You know what you have to do. _

_Richard, don't go looking for these people. They may be reluctant to kill you or your family, but they are dangerous. _

_And I won't blow this operation to stop them if they decide to do something. Too many good people have been lost in the hunt for them. _

_JH_

Castle read the letter several times and then leaned his head against the wall as tears coursed down his cheeks.

He didn't know what hurt worse - that his father had known what was going to happen and where he had been this entire time and literally had fed him to the wolves; that the people he considered his closest friends may not have been looking for him at all; or that someone - anyone - believed he would have willingly left Kate, that he had jilted her at the altar, and that Kate may have believed that also and left him because of it.

# # # # # # # #


	17. Chapter 17 A Glimmer of Hope

**Finding Richard Castle – The Isolation Experiment**

Summary – Another idea about what happened to Castle to cause him to miss his wedding based on something that happened in college and the wronged party's idea of revenge…and other things.

Author's Notes – So now we come to the end of the story. Again, thanks to all of you who have reviewed, followed, and faved this story. Rated high T for swearing again. **spoiler alert** yes, the wedding happens, but I don't go into great detail – can't wait to see what the Castle writers do.

Disclaimer – Don't own Castle – Marlowe, ABC, and Disney do. The OCs came out of my imagination.

**Chapter 17 – A Glimmer of Hope**

# # # # # # # #

Beckett had the taxi pull over when she saw Castle get out at the library, but by the time she reached the front door, he had disappeared from sight.

She quickly checked their area and then frowned. Where else could he be?

Beckett pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Alexis' number. "Alexis, this is Kate," she said when the red head answered the phone. "I'm at the library. Did you father say anything before he got out of the taxi?"

"He just said that grandfather had left him something there and he had to pick it up," Alexis replied. "Kate, is my dad okay?"

Beckett nodded. "That's what I intend to find out. We'll be home shortly. And thank you, Alexis."

She ended the call and then looked around. What could his father have left for him here and why?

Ah, Casino Royale, she thought suddenly, remembering the book that was waiting for Castle when he and Alexis had returned from Paris and the odd look on his face when he had seen it. Maybe the man known as Hunt/Cross had left him something in that book.

She checked the online catalog and found the location for the book, but Castle wasn't there either and neither were any copies of the book.

Where else could he have gone? And suddenly she knew – the last place they had been in here – the last place he had seen Hunt/Cross.

She found the stairs and walked down to the basement.

That's where she found him, slouched against the wall, eyes closed, tear stains on his cheeks.

"I thought I'd find you here," she said softly as she approached him.

"Yeah, I thought I'd pick up something to read – a lot of good books came out this summer that I missed," he replied, sitting up straighter and wiping the tears off of his face with his hand.

"I was just wondering how you could see that the man in the SUV was waving his hands when the headlights were on?" she asked quietly.

So that's the way it's going to be, thought Castle, a flash of pain quickly etching his features before he put on his best poker face.

"So are you detecting now, Detective Beckett?" he asked, without any hope, looking up at her finally with dull, defeated red-rimmed eyes. "Because, if you are, the answer is that I did and I would appreciate it if you left now – I have nothing more to say to the police."

Beckett watched him for a moment, immediately realizing she had said the wrong thing, and then dug in her heels.

"No, I'm asking my fiancé – the man I'm going to marry – what happened," she replied, kneeling down in front of him. "Maybe you've seen him? A really funny guy with a sensitive side but sometimes he can be like a 12 year old on a sugar rush. Likes to pull my pigtails every chance he gets."

Castle stared at her for a few moments, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes at her words. "Haven't seen him in months," he said tentatively, testing the waters. "Heard he ran off to live in the desert with some rat."

"Not just any rat – a really cute kangaroo mouse," said Beckett with a slight smile. "And it must have been some mouse."

"Oh," replied Castle, realizing that the videos had indeed been seen and slumping back against the wall. "No wonder Gates hates me."

"No, no," Beckett quickly reassured. "She was just trying to protect me. After you were kidnapped, I started getting calls that we thought were from you, but they weren't," she said, shaking her head. "He said things when he called, insinuated things, and I knew you'd never do that. So I quit answering my phone. We finally got video of him making the calls – he had brown hair and a long brown beard and was wearing a grey jumpsuit—"

"So when they called Gates from Las Vegas and gave them my description, she thought I was that guy," said Castle, nodding, pressing his lips into a thin line, and looking away. "They were thorough."

"But that shouldn't have happened – we should have been there for you." Beckett looked at him seriously. "Babe, I'm sorry – we made assumptions and we didn't check – we didn't do our jobs. And we let you down – we didn't have your back when you needed us the most – and there's nothing I can say that will make up for that."

Castle looked at her sincerely and said words that almost paralleled what she had said to him once. "But you were there for me, Kate – every day. The only thing that kept me going was thinking about you, about our future, our wedding. If I hadn't had that, I would have given up. Let Niedmyer win."

"But he's dead, Rick. He committed suicide – he can't hurt you anymore," Beckett stressed. "The hit man he hired is dead also – he broke his neck when he drove the SUV into the coffee shop. We think he was the man making the calls also."

Beckett waited for a response from Castle, but what finally came out of him was a dry bark of a laugh that turned into a groan.

He sat up straighter and ran a hand through his hair. They had only seen what the consortium wanted the outside world to see and not the whole picture.

And it was his decision as to whether to tell Beckett the truth or lie about it. But hadn't lies – miscommunications – already cost them enough years? But he would do whatever he needed to do to keep Kate safe, to make her understand the precariousness of the situation.

"No," he said, quickly making his decision because he didn't want any more lies between them. "Niedmyer and that man were just puppets. They weren't anyone of consequence."

Beckett frowned at him. "How can you be so sure?"

"Because the person who pushed me out of the way of the SUV was Sophia Turner," he said simply.

Beckett rocked back, shocked. "She's dead – Danberg shot her."

"Body armor," Castle replied. "And turns out that she works for my father."

"Babe, how do you know this?" Beckett questioned.

Castle motioned to the book on the floor and the letter and picture lying next to it. "She said come to the library – that I'd know what to do."

Beckett pulled her gloves out of her pocket and put them on. She then picked up the letter, examining both sides of the creased paper, and then looked the picture. It was of the Chinese girl they had saved. "How do you know it's from him?"

"He said the same thing in Paris – about playing spy. Only he could have known that."

Beckett quickly read the letter and then looked at Castle. "Wow," she said quietly and then looked at Castle. "Rick, who are these people? Who's William Hanner?"

"They're shadows that disappear when you reach out to touch them," Castle said simply. He then smiled slightly, another bittersweet expression. "Willy the Weasel – I haven't thought about him in years."

Beckett frowned. "And?" she asked somewhat hesitantly, not quite sure she wanted to hear about someone with that nickname, especially after what she had learned about Castle in the last couple of months.

"Probably the best forensic accountant I've ever met and one hell of a poker player – he knew everyone's tells within a couple of hands of playing," replied Castle. "I shadowed him for a couple of weeks – you know, to get an authentic feel for how the company works – turns out forensic accounting is very boring, but it's a major tool in weeding out the 'enemy' as Willy called them," he said making air quotes. "I thought I was good at research, but I was like a one cell paramecium compared to him. He showed me how to trace money and how to hide money. It's all in the details."

"I have a feeling this story doesn't end well," said Beckett.

"The last time I saw him was just after we finished a report about some accounting discrepancies in a company under investigation. He and his wife Tara were heading for a long weekend in Bermuda – she was 5 months pregnant and they wanted one last trip before she couldn't travel anymore." Castle leaned his head back against the wall. "The official report said that the sailboat they were on capsized in rough water and they were found in an air pocket several days later, only there wasn't any oxygen left by that time."

Beckett looked at the letter. "So it wasn't accidental."

Castle straightened and shook his head. "No, apparently not." He looked at Beckett with tears in his eyes. "And that's why I can't marry you. I can't be around you – or rather, you can't be around me. It isn't safe – it's not safe for anyone to be around me."

Beckett frowned at him for a moment. "Bullshit," she said suddenly. "That is a load of hooey and that's what they want, according to this letter," she said, holding it up to him. "Rick, you were there for me when I was 'radioactive' as Smith called it – when Bracken was hunting me. This isn't any different."

"No, it is – these people – they have unlimited resources – they could be anywhere—"

"And Bracken didn't?" retorted Beckett. "And according to this letter, he was everywhere. He even knew about my marriage to O'Leary," she exclaimed.

Castle nodded. "He was probably saving that to use against you if you got to close. You would have been dishonorably discharged from the force and charged with committing perjury for lying on your application since you said you weren't married."

"But then why didn't he?" asked Beckett.

Castle shrugged, back into the theory building mode that he had missed all those months. "Keep your friends close, your enemies closer. If you left the force, he couldn't keep track of you."

"And I would have only been in jail for a year or even gotten a suspended sentence," said Beckett. "He wanted to make sure I couldn't destroy his dream."

"And to do that, he had to put you away permanently," said Castle. "What better way than to wait until the opportunity arose to frame you for murder?"

Beckett smiled at him, nodding, but the moment passed quickly and Castle was again looking at her sadly.

"But Gates doesn't want me back at the 12th – she said so in no uncertain terms when she talked to the judge in Las Vegas."

Beckett shook her head, putting a hand against his knee. "No, no – Gates was wrong. She's even talked to the judge and gotten them to drop all charges against you."

Castle leaned his head back against the wall. "I don't know," he said in a defeated voice. "I don't know what's real, what to believe in anymore."

Beckett reached for one of his hands and intertwined their fingers together so that they fit perfectly.

"Then believe in this," she said, showing him their hands. "Believe in us because I will always love you, Richard Alexander Edgar Rogers Castle, no matter what happens."

She kissed him gently and then pressed their foreheads together for a moment before leaning back to look at him. "A rather remarkable man told me once, not too long ago, that ours is a great love story and that all great love stories have obstacles to overcome. But we can't ever give up if we want the happy ending. And I'm not giving up, babe. We're in this together. Okay?"

After looking at her for a long minute, Castle finally nodded. "Okay."

She kissed him again, the kiss lasting longer this time, one that left them breathless towards the end.

When they finally broke apart, she leaned back and studied him for a minute. "Castle, I don't want you to think that I doubt you, but there is one thing I have to know," she said and then bit into her bottom lip slightly before continuing. "When the FBI was investigating you after you went missing, they found several things – offshore accounts, a locker with $15000 cash, and an Australian passport with your picture in it."

Castle stared at her for a moment and then slowly grinned devilishly, the twinkle starting to return to his eyes.

"Good," he replied. "That means they stopped looking when they found what they wanted to find, and they didn't find the locker with your Canadian passport and the $100,000. You see, it's all in the details." He put a hand up to her face. "I told you that I'd take you some place safe."

Beckett smiled at him and gave him another quick kiss before standing up and holding out her hands to him. "Let's go home."

Castle sighed and allowed her to help him up after picking up the book and picture, and putting them in his pocket. He frowned slightly. "Well, that might be a problem since I technically don't have a home anymore. I can't even live in the Ferrari because it's too small."

Beckett smiled at him, knowing that both Martha and Alexis had refused his offer. "Well, there's always my apartment, or I'm sure Martha would let us stay at the loft for a price," she teased as they walked up the stairs, hand in hand.

"Yeah – I wonder how much rent she would charge me, but I'm not sure I could afford it," Castle replied. "Might be cheaper to stay at a hotel."

# # # # # # # #

They quickly found a taxi and stopped at Remi's first for hamburgers, fries, and shakes to celebrate Castle's return before going to the loft.

His bravado fading slightly, Castle hesitated as the doorman swiped his fob in front of the elevator controls to let them up and Beckett punched the button for their floor.

"You know, I think I'll just take the stairs," he said, backing out of the elevator and motioning towards the Exit sign with his thumb.

Beckett looked at him with a gleam in her eye. "Bet I can beat you to the top," she replied as she sprinted for the door and pushed it open.

They were slightly out of breath and laughing when they reached the top floor but soon realized they had a problem because the stairwell door was locked. Castle had no keys and Beckett's fob was in her cruiser which Ryan had driven back to the precinct for her.

"Probably not the best plan of action," Castle frowned as he looked at the locked door. "You know, I could stay here while you go back down and then let me in," he said hopefully.

"Not a chance. I just got you back and I'm not letting you out of my sight again," said Beckett as she pulled out her phone. "Hi, Alexis – yes, I found him. We're actually in the stairwell and my fob's in my car at the precinct. Can you let us in? Thanks."

Beckett smiled as she heard footsteps running down the hallway and then the door was yanked open and the young woman launched herself into her father's arms for a tearful reunion.

Beckett made sure to hold the door open while the two embraced in a long hug. Martha quickly joined them, resulting in more tears and more hugs, and they finally made it into the loft several minutes later.

# # # # # # # #

Fred Simms slowly packed the last of his belongings in a suitcase and rolled it over next to the door. He looked back at the empty apartment and let out a sigh.

Ever since Niedmyer's indiscretion had been discovered, anything associated with the man was now toxic. All of his research had been invalidated and, along with that, the research for Simm's doctorate thesis.

Not only did Simms not have the money to start over, but no other professor wanted to be his advisor since he now had the black stain of working of Niedmyer on his record.

Now he was being forced to move back in with his parents while he decided what to do with his life.

A knock on the door interrupted him and he walked over to open it.

"Ah, Ms. Smith," he said to the well dressed woman standing at the door. "I wasn't expecting company and if you had gotten here about 10 minutes from now, I would have been gone."

"Yes, I know," said Smith. She walked in and looked at his bags. "I have a problem," she said looking at him. "One that you can help with."

She paused. "MDSE finds itself in an extremely embarrassing situation because of Dr. Niedmyer's actions."

Simms shook his head. "I'm sorry – I knew something was off and I should have spoken up sooner."

Smith shook her head. "No, no, we should be apologizing to you for putting you in such a delicate position. We had no idea of the extent of Niedmyer's psychosis and what he was truly capable of. We should have vetted him more thoroughly."

"No, he was the leading expert in his field," said Simms. "There's no way you could have known."

"Still, we feel badly about the situation and would like to make you a job offer," said Smith. "It seems, due to unfortunate circumstances, that we have an opening in our research department."

She pulled out an envelope and handed it to Simms.

"But I don't have a doctorate," said Simms as he took the envelope.

Smith smiled at him. "Those have a tendency to get in the way sometimes. We look for free thinkers – people who can link parts of the puzzle together – think outside the box. I hope you'll consider our offer."

Simms opened the envelope and took out the piece of paper. "Wow," he said after reading it. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," said Smith. "You'll find that we can be quite generous to our people. We consider you part of our family."

Simms looked at the paper again. "Then of course – yes, I'll be glad to accept this position."

Smith smiled at him again. "Good. We've made arrangements for you to stay in corporate housing until you get settled." She handed him a card. "And why don't you bring your lovely fiancé Sue with you. I'm sure we can find something for her to do too."

"Thank you," said Simms, smiling. "I will."

# # # # # # # #

The next few weeks passed quickly as Castle reintegrated himself into his life, sometimes smoothly, sometimes not so smoothly. He glibly passed off those times off as the road bumps in life that therapy sessions were helping to flatten out, to which Alexis would reply with a kiss on his cheek, "Just don't get too flat, Dad."

He made arrangements to have the Jeep Wrangler shipped to New York, rather than returning to Las Vegas to drive it back since he wasn't anxious to return to that city anytime soon.

He was sleeping better at night, not waking up as much, the dreams that he was still locked in the tank fading under Beckett's gentle ministrations whenever he had one.

He had even started writing again – even though he couldn't write the words down all those months, his mind had been feverishly working on story ideas that he hoped to use at some point and now he was aching to get them out.

Finally, he was ready to face returning to the precinct and all that it entailed, especially being in an elevator. Beckett had warned the precinct, especially Ryan and Espo, not to make a big deal out of Castle's return and was grateful that they heeded her – except for the small stuffed kangaroo mouse that appeared mysteriously on his chair the morning of his return with a 'Welcome Back' card.

She shot them the look as Castle picked it up with a slight smirk and added it to the collection on Beckett's desk. Espo and Ryan shrugged with big 'wasn't me' eyes.

"Mr. Castle," said Gates as she walked through on the way to her office. "It's good to have you back."

"Thank you, sir," said Castle, holding his breath for a moment.

Gates glanced at her window and smiled slightly as she watched Castle pick up the mouse again to look at it and then put it down as Beckett's phone rang. "Got a body," she said to her team after listening to the call.

# # # # # # # #

Several weeks after that, they exchanged their wedding vows in front of a much smaller crowd.

The only hesitation came when Castle started to put the ring on Beckett's finger and teared up slightly.

He had had her original wedding band on him the day he was driven off the road and it had never been found. It had been a one of a kind but he managed to find another one that worked just as well, but it was a reminder of what he had lost and what he had regained.

The reception was drinks at the old Haunt with their family and friends. The party lasted well into the night.

Then, several hours later, Castle carried Beckett over the threshold of the honeymoon suite at a small, expensive, out of the way hotel.

They quickly divested each other of their clothes with the same passionate frenzy that rivaled the first time they were together and then their first night together after being apart for months.

Afterwards, their love making slowed to something more intimate, but no less passionate.

Castle smiled at Beckett as he slowly kissed her, caressing her. Beckett smiled back at him, savoring the moment, until Castle stiffened and held his weight on his arms.

"Damn," he swore. "Damn it to hell," he said again as his head dropped against the pillow.

"Castle, babe, are you alright? That's not what a woman wants to hear on her wedding night," Beckett said as she felt him deflate and then roll off of her.

He draped an arm over his eyes and grimaced.

"Are you okay?" Beckett asked, suddenly concerned.

"I hate him," Castle said flatly.

"Who?"

"My father."

"Uh, babe – that's also something a woman doesn't want to hear on her wedding night – that her husband is thinking about his father during this time."

"No, no – it's not like that," Castle responded. "You said that when I wasn't thinking so hard about what Hanner did that I'd figure it out. And I quit thinking about it – obviously," Castle responded. "And I figured it out."

He climbed over her to reach the notebook he had placed on the bedside table and quickly scribbled down several items.

Beckett frowned as she watched him. "Really – it's that simple?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's all about finding the weakest link," Castle replied as he continued to write. His head shot up suddenly. "Wow – that really did sound like Blakely."

He finally finished writing and looked at her.

"So now what?" asked Beckett.

"Well, I'll find a way to get this to him, but I think now we have some unfinished business, Mrs. Castle," he said as he smiled and leaned in to kiss her.

# # # # # # # #

The End


End file.
